Dragonslayer
by Shutterbug5269
Summary: An old fashioned sword and sorcery epic featuring our dynamic duo. Story-wise, an AU Caskett meeting mashup of "Flowers For Your Grave" and "Target/Hunt". I felt inspired to go back to my roots writing fantasy for the #CastleFicathon. With thanks to @LordofKavaka for the amazing cover art and @Cofkett my beta. Now in the #CastleSummerFicathon word count beginning with Chapter 10
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

* * *

" _Now I've told you this once before, you can't control me  
If you try to take me down you're gonna break"_

"I Stand Alone" written by Sully Erna  
Performed by Godsmack

* * *

 **1458DR  
** " **Year of the Plotting Priests"  
Port City of New Amsterdam**

James Beckett, former paladin of the noble God, Heironeous, stepped into the nearly empty chambers provided as an office for an advocate for the commons of the city of New Amsterdam. He had hung up his sword and armor nearly five years hence, much of that time spent seeking answers for why his wife Johanna had been murdered in the bottom of a flagon of mead. It had taken many years to work past, nearly alienating his strong willed - but wounded - daughter in the process.

He had been away serving his god, smiting evil and providing justice to the downtrodden for so many years, he'd had no idea what Johanna had become embroiled in here at home, how much peril his family had been in, but when he marched triumphantly back into the city's gate he had returned to find his wife stabbed to death in this very office.

Though he was certain it was his imagination, as he had been assured the floors had been stripped and resurfaced years ago, he was sure he could still see the stain on the floor where Johanna's blood had pooled under her body, still warm when he had found her on that black day when his oaths to Heironeous had ceased to have meaning. He would place the armor stand on that spot to remind him of his failure.

He had failed to uphold the third oath, the one to his lady his one and only true love and she had been killed, leaving no crusader to take up the mantle that had been left vacant with her passing. He would pay his penance to his Lady and his god by taking up her standard instead. To serve as diligently as an advocate of justice for the people as he had as a Paladin.

His fair Johanna had gone on to the next world, and so he'd sworn his service to Blind Justice instead, though in his heart of hearts, under that blindfold, she resembled his beloved.

He'd made a solemn vow to never fail her again.

* * *

 **1463DR  
** " **Year of the Reborn Hero"**

 **An hour's march from New Amsterdam**

When the smoke cleared, nearly everyone from the caravan lay dead. Cole Maddox surveyed the handiwork of himself and his small squad of highly trained assassins.

The skirmish had been brief and only one guard had acquitted herself well enough to kill one of his men. He'd had to draw his blade and deal with her himself. She was good, obviously not the sort of sell-sword that would hire herself out to a merchant caravan. Given the identity of the red haired girl he had been sent to retrieve, he was not surprised that she would have at least one guard chosen by her father. She'd made him work for it, but in the end he was better. He'd managed to cut her down without killing her.

"You fought well," Maddox stated without a hint of derision in his tone. "Nobody has fought me to a standstill like you have in a long time. You are a credit to your order, but I need something from you."

The young woman spat blood that had pooled in her mouth, some of which landed on his boots. He'd expected as much, and his expression never wavered.

"You'll get nothing from me," she hissed, "be on with it and be on your way."

Two of his largest men dragged her to her feet. She was nearly the same height as the girl now unconscious and bound in the back of the wagon, sporting hair the same shade of red. Anyone going by a general description anyone else could have confused them as sisters, but he knew better.

"I need you to convey a message for me, sword maiden," he whispered, "but out of respect for your skill, I'll make this quick."

In a movement so quick that not even his own men were prepared for it, there was a dagger in his hand which he buried in the young woman's chest, slipping it easily between her ribs to cut her heart in two.

"But...the message..." she choked out with her dying breath, the light slipping from her eyes.

"You _are_ the message, my dear, not the messenger," Maddox whispered in her ear as she faded out, "or, you will be, with a little stage dressing."

"Strip the bodies, no traces!" Maddox ordered to his men as he allowed the now dead body of Allison Tisdale to fall to the ground. "Bring the sword maiden. I have something particular in mind."

* * *

Lady Katherine Beckett had been tracking a fugitive for most of the day when she came upon the scene later that day. Fifteen bodies from the small trade caravan, left where they fell, stripped of their weapons and equipment. One of the bodies lay in the middle of the defensive circle of wagons, stripped bare and covered in rose petals, her eyes covered with sunflowers, a slender sword clutched in her hands, as if laid out for warrior's burial.

 _Why go to all the trouble to make this look like bandits then do this?_ She thought to herself. _It doesn't make any sense._

This was bigger than chasing some art thief, royal warrant or not. She had to get back to call in the guard before the bodies attracted carrion eaters. As her father had found his new calling years ago as an advocate for the living, it had become hers to seek justice for the dead when the wicked had robbed them of their voices.

She had a duty to speak for these men and women. To find the people who killed them, and put them in cages. Their families deserved closure, their spirits deserved to be put to rest, the closure she and her father had been denied. It had become her crusade, her life's work. Something just didn't feel right about this one though. There was something she was missing.

She just couldn't put her finger on it.

* * *

Richard Castle, Third Under-mage of the Order of Magi, had been called to the scene - at the insistence of Knight-Captain Montgomery - to search for magical traces. None of the bodies had been moved and Castle was shocked at the tableau, one he'd all too familiar, yet alien to him at the same time.

His mind spun wildly as he crushed the needed materials from his pouch and muttered the spell to reveal magic by rote. The sword clutched in the dead woman's cold, dead hands glowed as if on fire and before the guards-woman who'd discovered the bodies had carefully removed the sunflowers over Allison Tisdale's eyes, Castle knew beyond all shadow of doubt whom she was.

He had hired the young woman now lying dead at his feet to guard his daughter. The sword now clutched in her hands as if for honored burial had set off all of the protective wards in his home the day he'd met her three years ago. But the sudden recognition wasn't what had turned his skin pale and made him sick to his stomach. What hit him like a punch to the stomach was how Allison's body was laid out, a tableau he was certain he'd never seen outside of his nightmares.

Nightmares he'd had off and on since the night after he'd been found in Hollander's Woods when he was eleven years old. A day that even now he could not remember, other than a scene just like this one seared into his memory along with pain and fear.

 _Why take Alexis, and leave Allison like this for me to find?_ Castle asked himself. _How could someone know to do that?_ _No one knew about this nightmare, not Meredith, nor Gina, nor even mother. It was just a nightmare... w_ _asn't it?_

He would need answers to these questions and there was only one place he was going to find them. The place that, to this day, still filled him with a sense of fear and dread, a place he would have been content never to set foot in again.

Somebody either connected to that day he could neither remember nor ever forget, or somebody who knew what happened there had taken Alexis. If he wanted to find her and bring her home safe, he would have to set aside his fear and return to the place where the course of his life had been altered forever.

For the love of his only child, into Hollander's Woods he would go.

* * *

 _ ****Author's Note** I know, I know, I've started another major AU instead of continuing my other unfinished works. I understand how this might be frustrating to some of you guys who've been waiting a while, but season 8 has given me little to work with in the way of inspiration lately. This is the first really fresh idea I've had in a while, so I hope you enjoy the ride. I used to write Dungeons and Dragons fanfic back in the day, so it's sort of a return to my writing roots. I hope you like it.**_

 _ **For those of you who may not know, the city we now know as New York began its life as the Dutch colony of New Amsterdam.**_

 _ **I would also like to thank LordofKavaka for the incredible cover art at such short notice**_


	2. The Crusader

**Chapter Two**  
 **The Crusader**

* * *

 _I stand alone  
Feeling your sting down inside me  
I'm not dying for it  
I stand alone  
Everything that I believe is fading  
I stand alone, inside  
I stand alone  
_

"I Stand Alone"  
written by Sully Erna  
Performed by Godsmack

* * *

Richard Castle had needed to get leave from his duties with the circle before he could leave the city.

That had been accomplished easily enough: Grand Magi Regina Cowell, his superior in the circle and ex-wife, had been eager to be rid of him for the two fortnights he had asked for. Since the dissolution of their marriage they had always seemed to get on each others' nerves. She likely relished the idea of some quiet.

Knight-Captain Montgomery, however had not been so easily shaken off by his stated desire to drown his sorrows, which he was certain Gina assumed included a romp through the seedier dockside establishments with their bawdy tavern girls who were more than eager to be seen in his company, or spend time in his bedchamber, or have him in theirs. The rumors of such exploits were the stuff of legends at court, though none spoke of them openly in front of Lord Weldon.

"Lord Castle," Montgomery stated sternly, "Guard-Lieutenant Beckett informed us about your reaction to the the bodies the other day. Did you recognize one of them?"

Castle knew he could have glamered both of them easily enough. Made them both think they had never seen him, but it was a line he was not yet ready to cross.

"Yes," Castle admitted after a pause, "the one covered in rose petals. She's the bodyguard I'd hired to protect my daughter."

"Alexis is mixed up in this?" Montgomery hissed with a whispered curse. He had watched the slender redhead grow up, she was always a delight to see at court. Smart, sassy and quick to put unruly blowhards in their place, she was also graceful, thoughtful and kind. Everyone loved her and any two of his knights would gladly walk barefoot through fire and over broken glass just to have her favor them with her smile.

"She wasn't among the dead," Castle choked out, "I checked, someone's taken her and left Allison in a way that only I would recognize. It was a message left for me, a clue to where to go that only I would know to follow."

"I see," his chief lieutenant, Victoria Gates stated darkly, "and how long were you planning to keep this information to yourself, Lord Castle?"

"My _daughter_ is out there, right now," Castle hissed, straightening up dangerously to his full height, power rippling at his command, "I will do _whatever_ it takes to get her back, and may the gods protect anyone who gets in my way."

"Lord Castle," Montgomery began, stepping between the two, hoping to keep things low key, "I know I can't stop you, but I can't let you do this alone either. At least let me make a few discreet inquiries to put together a proper party to help you. This time tomorrow I will have some names for you to check out."

"Okay, Roy," Castle replied, "I'll give you until this time tomorrow."

"If I were you, I would start with Lieutenant Beckett," Montgomery added, "she's the best tracker I have, the best I ever trained. Once she gets her teeth into a chase, she never lets go. I'll make arrangements to have her placed at your disposal, you will more than likely find her in the training yard at this hour."

* * *

Richard Castle watched as Kate Beckett shadow-sparred with the wooden training sword before attacking the training stand with it. Kate was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her body moved with a dancer's grace he had rarely seen. It was clear from her slender build and whip-chord strength - though she was rather tall and lacked the pointed ears - that she had Elven blood in her veins. The signs practically sang out to those who knew - or bothered - to read them like he did.

Her prowess with a blade was unmistakable, though it was clear from her minor lapses in technique that she was angry and distracted, which he was certain was his doing. He'd made Montgomery promise to tell her nothing other than to place her at his disposal this afternoon.

Kate Beckett was fuming. When she'd been given the order from Knight Captain Montgomery to place herself at Richard Castle's disposal this afternoon, she'd asked to speak to Montgomery in private, which he'd refused. She had duties to perform, murderers to track down and victims to avenge, she didn't have time to ride herd on a skirt-chasing mage – who would likely try to get into her pants - on a pub crawling adventure.

She would have had to speak to him about his reaction to the bodies she'd found the other day, but she'd wanted _him_ to be at _her_ disposal, not the other way around. She'd heard the rumors circling about him and had no desire to be another notch on his considerable bedpost, in spite of the fact that she secretly admired him.

He'd risen from nothing, the bastard son of a court bard, to one of the most prestigious postings in the shire. Third Under-mage of the circle of Magi and Court Sorcerer of Sir Robert Weldon, Lord of New Amsterdam. A considerable feat indeed for one of his humble beginnings. If only he wasn't such an arrogant, egotistical jackass, whose only redeeming quality at first glance seemed to have been that he had managed to raise a rather well-adjusted daughter.

"Those training stands can be shifty bastards," came Lord Castle's voice behind her, making her jump.

 _And there's the egotistical jackass, himself_ , Kate thought, before turning to glare at him.

"Do you mind? I'm trying to concentrate," she shot back, not even bothering to mask her anger and frustration nor sparing a look in his direction to glare at him.

"Look, I get it, all right?" Castle replied with more grace than Kate would have expected. "It's your responsibility to get answers. To find out who killed those people."

"As much as I appreciate your understanding," Kate replied, even though she didn't appreciate his presence at all, nor her direct orders to endure it, "I just want to..."

Her words trailed off as she went back to hammering at the practice stand.

"Wouldn't it be more of a challenge if they weren't standing still?"Castle, shouted above the noise of her wooden sword pounding on the stand's rope covered surface.

Kate stopped short, whirled around and thrust the practice sword into his hands, her utter frustration with the man on full display.

"Okay, Castle, show me how it's done," Kate stepped back and indicated her practice stand with an exaggerated bow. "All yours, milord."

Castle hefted the weapon, swinging the sword clumsily, and Beckett moved behind him, falling into the training routine she has used more than once with a novice guardsman.

"Square off to your opponent and relax your stance. Feet shoulder-width apart. Okay?"

Castle swung too hard, from a step mere inches too far away and shouldered into the the stand, causing Kate to chuckle as she helped him up.

"Yeah, well. You know, we could always just cuddle, Lord Castle," Kate snarked wickedly, her smile bordering on genuine amusement for the first time since he'd arrived.

"Oh, very funny, milady," Castle replied with a smug grin of his own, " and a smile. Good."

This time Castle's wooden sword managed to find the practice stand... the point skittered across the ropes wound around it, in what would have been an ineffective scrape across a man's chest armor, leaving Castle open to a disabling blow across the back of his neck, everything Kate would have expected from a novice with a sword as she rolled her eyes at him.

 _If he's trying to impress me,_ she thought to herself, _he isn't doing a very good job of it._

"That's... better, Milord," she said out loud, with just the amount of contempt she would have with a novice on the training floor.

"I, uh, know that the Knight Captain placed you at my disposal today," Castle stammered, trying not to anger her further, "but I...uhh...came here to ask you if I could, uh, I was hoping you would be willing to accompany me...and release the Elven thief your man Esposito arrested this morning into my custody."

"Go with you? And release a fugitive from justice we'd been chasing on a royal warrant for over a month?" Kate asked testily, finally realizing for the first time, that there was more going on than the whims of a rogue mage contemplating going on a bender. "To go where? Why?"

"I know what you must think of my reputation at court, Lady Beckett," Castle replied, the lightness of his tone belying the seriousness of his request. "But there is more going on than you know. Believe it or not, we could both get what we want out of this partnership if you were to keep an open mind."

His next halfhearted swing of the wooden sword struck low on the rope wound tightly around the training stand. His concentration centered on swaying Beckett to his cause, not his swordplay.

"Ooh. That's gotta hurt," he muttered on a curse.

Beckett smiled wickedly at him as she withdrew a second wooden training sword from the rack nearby.

"Tell you what, Lord Castle," she offered teasingly, feeling keenly that she had the upper hand for the first time since the other day. "You turn aside any of my next three attacks, and not only will I join you on this...quest...of yours, I will personally petition the court for Kevin Ryan's release into your custody."

"I have your word?" Castle asked, "on your honor as a Lieutenant of the Royal Guard Constabulary?"

"Yes, Lord Castle," she said wholeheartedly, raising her right hand, "on my honor, I swear."

Kate did not notice the sudden, radical shift in Castle's demeanor, nor the change in his stance as she swung into what she thought was a very clever opening strike, which he shifted aside with his own wooden blade with ridiculous ease. Her second batted aside just as smoothly, with a cat-like grace she had not expected from him.

Her third attack sent the blunted point of her wooden sword boring straight at his chest, to which she knew he had few options, either dive away, parry, or the one more aggressive option she would never have expected him to take. His own blade cleanly intersected hers, then twisted and spun upward practically ripping the sword from her grip sending it skyward blade first, then back down into Castle's extended had as if beckoned to it.

Kate stood there staring at him as he turned toward her and with a nearly regal flourish, presented her wooden sword back to her pommel first, the bade resting crossed over his arm.

"How did you...?" Kate stuttered as she took the wooden blade proffered to her.

"You're a very good teacher," Castle stated with a wink and a genuine smile - not the smarmy one he favored the ladies with at court - before turning away.

Kate couldn't believe how easily he'd disarmed her. He was no novice with a sword, that much was obvious, a talent not often within a mage's skill-set. He wasn't just good, though he had enough control to convincingly pretend to be awful.

She couldn't even really be angry at him for the subterfuge, she'd made her mind up about him from the start based solely on his reputation at court, underestimated him and fallen for the ruse hook, line and sinker. Something her mentor, and training officer Sergeant Royce had beaten into her brain never to do. He'd left her with enough bruises on the training floor to be sure it would set in. Never to simply accept what was shown to her on the surface. Something she would never do with Richard Castle ever again.

Kate had barely replaced the practice blade back to the rack when he said, still with his back turned,

"I'll be holding you to that oath, Lady Beckett. We depart for Hollander's woods in three days."

She hadn't noticed his face fall after he turned away, the mask of joviality practically melt away, to be replaced by determination to rescue his little girl, along with sharp pangs of regret for having manipulated Kate into giving her most solemn oath, without yet knowing what she was signing up for.

Though the reason why he was keeping his cards close to his vest would have been clear to anyone who knew the inner workings of his mind, which few really did, even those who claimed to know him best.

To save Alexis, he would do anything, no matter the cost.

* * *

 _ ****Author's Note** If anyone thinks they find these scenes familiar, you're absolutely correct. I should have Ch 3 up as soon as it comes back from my beta. The next couple chapters will revolve around putting the rest of the party together, then it's off to Hollander's Woods.**_


	3. The Thief

**Chapter Three  
The Thief**

* * *

 _I stand alone  
Feeling your sting down inside of me  
I'm not dying for it  
I stand alone  
Everything that I believe is fading  
I stand alone  
Inside  
I stand alone _

"I Stand Alone" written by Sully Erna  
Performed by Godsmack

* * *

Richard Castle knelt on the floor, in front of the slender, finely crafted sword that rested in it's scabbard in front of him as he breathed deeply to find his center, reaching deep within himself for the inner calm his instructors in both magic and swordplay had taught him to seek and open himself to the universe.

He rose smoothly to his feet, drawing the black sword inscribed with red runes from its scabbard and began to walk the forms, starting with the most basic then moving inexorably faster into more complex ones until the razor sharp bade was a blur in his hand, an extension of his inner self, and his hand as it flashed around him, seemingly with a mind of its own, which in a rudimentary sense it had.

His body moved with cat-like grace, an extension of the weapon he wielded. A weapon forged by a mage to be used by a mage. A focus for his power, which allowed him to adapt to the techniques of others as they fought, drew life from him and returned it.

He'd named it Armageddon.

With his eyes closed, he felt the target stands around him rather than saw them. Thirteen bamboo posts at shoulder height staggered throughout his private training room. He reached out with a sense beyond sight, beyond touch, beyond instinct and let sword and muscle memory guide his motions as his mind flashed with worst case scenario after worst case scenario.

The flashes from his nightmares, the scene in the clearing the other day. The image in his mind he could not shake of his daughter laid out the same way...

Alexis' blood on his hands.

A voice he did not recognize laughing.

Darkness.

Fire.

There was something more buried in the imagery that he wasn't seeing, he was sure of it. Something blocked, something that wanted to be released, but he could not seem to reach it. Something lurking at the edge of the darkness in his mind's eye. Something he was sure he'd seen that day twenty-nine years ago, but he just couldn't find it. The answer elusively just beyond his grasp every time he reached for it, somewhere in the flashes of memory that taunted him with what he either did not know, or did now know he knew. Answers he had sought since he was eleven years old. A secret need he had kept long buried under the guise of the affable, womanizing, nine year old on a sugar rush facade he showed the world.

Armageddon flashed and one by one each of the thirteen bamboo stands were cleanly bisected by either an up or down stroke of the shimmering black blade. Man and blade moving as one complete being.

When his body swung to a stop and Armageddon was snapped back into its sheath, Richard Castle opened his eyes to see his handiwork. Thirteen cleanly hewn posts, the tops of which lay on the floor.

Though the exercise had focused his mind as it always had, he was no closer to an answer than he had been when he started, only more questions. Unlike every other time before, however, they felt like the _right_ questions. To save Alexis he would need to answer them.

There was a story behind all of this that would make the images in his mind and all of the evidence Beckett had found at the scene of Alexis' abduction make sense. To figure out where he fit into that narrative, though, he would have to go back where it all began. Find a place he had not laid eyes on since he was a scared eleven year old boy lost alone in the woods. A place he had long believed to be a figment of his adolescent imagination.

He was not a scared little boy anymore, however.

Though it had been years since he'd stood back to back with Robert Weldon and Roy Montgomery in the battle to retake the halls of Myth Drannor, he was a fully trained battlemage with power at his command, weapons at his disposal, and thanks to Roy, he would not be going into the woods alone.

* * *

When Castle arrived at Fortress Rock, Beckett was waiting for him, and she did not appear to be happy about it. He felt the tiniest twinge of guilt for how he had extracted the oath from her to help him. He had meant what he said, however. She would get what she wanted out of this partnership, there would be justice for the people killed in the caravan attack that had been staged to conceal the abduction of his daughter from all but his eyes.

He needed her help for what was coming next. Lady Katherine Beckett's skills as a man-tracker were second to none in the shire. If anyone could help him find Alexis and bring her home safe, it was her.

He'd heard the gossip about her in court. She had spurned the advances of more than one nobleman who'd thought to seek her hand, or add the daughter of the disgraced paladin as a notch on their bedposts. The same self-styled Lotharios he'd done his best to shield Alexis from. Though they had tried to paint her as a man-hating bitch, for shooting them down, he'd read between the lines of the mean-spirited gossip to find a woman with spirit who did not suffer fools gladly. A woman he would want his daughter to emulate.

 _She'll likely be even more angry when she learns what I'm holding back_ , Castle thought to himself before he plastered the face the world expected to see from him and approached with what he hoped was a peace offering. A steaming mug of coffee from his own private stock, flavored lightly with vanilla. Another secret of hers that Montgomery had shared with him in strictest confidence.

When he handed her the mug of coffee, Kate held it in her hands to warm them from the morning's chill, then took a tentative sip and her eyes closed involuntarily.

"How did you know..." Kate asked before her eyes snapped back open, her mask of indifference having slipped a fraction, then back into place.

"I'm Lord Robert Weldon's Official Court Sorcerer, part of that is discerning threats yet to materialize," Castle replied, drinking his own coffee. "It's my job to notice things others don't."

"It's early," Kate snarked, trying not to let on how much she was enjoying the coffee he'd brought, nor how much of an effect his peace offering had on her. "Shouldn't you be slinking home from some scandalous liaison?"

"Would you be jealous if I were?" Castle asked, slipping effortlessly into the role he was certain she expected to see. The one that had always seemed to fall into place when he was out in public, the side he had always been careful _not_ to expose his daughter to.

"In your dreams," Kate snarked again, turning her back to him to open the door, making sure to finish her coffee before she was tempted to throw the expensive-looking ceramic mug at him.

"Actually, in my dreams you're never jealous," Castle quipped, finding his inner smart-ass easily, "In my dreams, you just join..."

Kate tossed the empty mug at him, and he scrambled to catch it, before handing it to his steward who would not be accompanying him inside.

"Try not to be so giddy about tricking me into releasing a criminal, okay?" Kate warned, her voice turning serious.

"Just because you made a bet based upon your own misconceptions about me, gave your oath and lost," Castle replied, "doesn't mean you have to be grumpy."

"Grumpy?" Kate hissed. "That damned Moon Elf led us on a merry chase over half the shire before Guardsman Esposito dragged him in. He'd had to clap him in irons in front of his wife and daughter, which troubled him more than he lets on. When we have to explain to _him_ that he did that for nothing, _then_ you'll see grumpy."

Castle cast his gaze down a bit, before returning his eyes to hers, a more earnest expression on his face as if a lever had been thrown, just like the day before when he'd shrugged off the affable, easygoing mask and she saw something else beneath for a split second before he'd disarmed her without even breathing hard. That there was more to Richard Castle than the man-child front he presented at first glance.

"My reputation at court to the contrary, _Lady Beckett_ , this is not some childish whim of mine," he whispered with an edge to his voice that had been missing before, "this is likely the most serious thing I've contemplated in a long time and when I _do_ tell you everything, you'll understand."

"And when will _that_ be?" Beckett asked, the ice in her tone making it clear she neither appreciated the subterfuge, nor being kept in the dark.

"When there are fewer ears around us that come attached to wagging tongues," Castle replied darkly, though Kate could tell his tone was not directed entirely at her. "Better that those wagging tongues think me another aspiring suitor, or a fool, than what is actually afoot. Until then, I beg your indulgence."

Castle turned on his heel and walked into the the keep, leaving a confused Kate Beckett in his wake. More bothered than she seemed, by the dual nature of the man and wondering which face was the real Richard Castle and which was the mask.

* * *

Kevin Ryan, member of the Fellowship of the Forgotten Flower, rogue and alleged thief sworn to the service of Corellon Larethian to protect the heritage of the elven races, sat in his cell, singing to himself, a song he had oft rocked his baby girl to sleep with, resigned to the likelihood that he would spend a large portion of his remaining years in a human prison.

" _The minstrel boy to the war is gone, in the ranks of death you will find him."_

His reputation as an alleged master thief had obviously preceded him. The guards had searched him thoroughly, places he'd hoped only his wife would ever see, as such he had nothing to work the lock of either the manacle chained to the wall, or the cell door he could not reach.

" _His father's sword he has girded on and his wild harp slung behind him"_

He'd been a bard... once. His own harp and voice had been the talk of the Elven lands before the troubles, when he'd laid down his harp taken up his sword and bow and followed the avatar of his god, Corellon Larethian to war against Lloth.

 _"Land of Song! said the warrior bard, Though all the world betrays thee,"_

Though all seemed to forsake their duty in the wake of the Time of Troubles, when divine magic had gone haywire and the gods had summoned their faithful and gone to war, trapped in their mortal avatars. Several major deities died during that chaotic time and a handful of mortals rose to divinity. In the wake of that period, faith in the gods had been shaken to its core.

" _One sword, at least, thy rights shall guard, one faithful harp shall praise thee!"_

The old saying, that one should never meet their gods, had been proven truer that even the gods themselves had been prepared for. It had taken a full generation of mortals since that time for the rest of the world to recover, but the lands of elves were still in a state of chaos. Kevin Ryan had not forsaken his god, or his people however, though his harp had not spoken since nor he had he sung again for any but his wife and little girl.

The loud snap of the lock and scraping of the iron door of his cell swinging open drew him from his thoughts and to his feet as a guard approached him.

"You must have powerful friends, knife ear," guardsman Demming grunted with contempt, "Lord Weldon's Court Sorcerer, himself wants to see you."

Though his advocate, the former Paladin, James Beckett had been in to see him only yesterday, Kevin hadn't expected much from that meeting, as the man had only inquired about how well he was being treated, with a vow to make arrangements for his family to see him before his trial.

Though Kevin's reputation as a thief had preceeded him, so had the fact that he had never harmed anyone, nor taken more than was required to feed his family and keep a roof over their heads. It was apparent that the people he had stolen from had been careful not to admit to the elven artifacts of great cultural significance he had relieved them of and sent home, treasures of his _Teu-tel-quessir_ heritage looted from abandoned holdings since the Troubles.

The war between Corellon Larethian and Lloth nearly a century before had resulted in massive casualties, and elves - even the Teu-tel-quessir - did not procreate nearly as swiftly as humans. As such many holdings had stood empty for decades. It might take generations for the elves to rise again to their former glory, if at all, but they were still a force to be reckoned with and such looting of Elven holdings were not taken lightly even here in this human shire.

Kevin knew he would have to bide his time, let the fallen paladin do his work and hold out the small hope that the nobles in question might drop the charges against him if they thought their illicit activities would be revealed to the cold light of day. It was the only hope he had that he might see his family again in the near future, or breathe free air.

Upon command from the short tempered guard, Kevin rose to his full height of just over five feet, his stature unbowed. Though his gait was hobbled by the shackles, his proud soul would not be dragged under. He had been a faithful follower of Corellon Larethian for well over a hundred and forty human years and had few regrets, save for the fact that his daughter Sarah Grace had been made to see him dragged away from their home in chains. Even the guardsman who'd taken him seemed to regret it.

* * *

Castle sat and waited as the heavily shackled Kevin Ryan was lead into the room and sat on the chair opposite him.

"Lose the chains," Castle ordered.

Guardsman Demming did not seem to share Castle's outlook and grunted, "I don't think that's wise."

Castle rose and looked into the guard's eyes, his voice taking on a strange timbre, "I don't think the shackles will be necessary. Remove them and leave us." Demming's eyes almost immediately went glassy and his bearing seemed to slacken as whatever spell Castle put him under took effect.

"I don't think the shackles are necessary," Demming muttered, his voice devoid of inflection, before unlocking the shackles binding Ryan and without another word left the room.

Suddenly, Kate didn't feel quite so bad about being hustled on the training grounds the day before. Sobered by the knowledge that he clearly could have gotten what he wanted from her through much more straightforward means than an oath and a lost wager. Her own hubris had put her in the position she was in.

"Guard Lieutenant Beckett," Castle asked as if he hadn't just used a mind control spell on a guardsman right in front of her, "I need to have a few words with our Teu-tel-quessir friend here, I would be in your debt if you could make sure we're not disturbed?"

Kate nodded her head, and left the room. As much as she wanted to know what he would say to Kevin Ryan to secure his allegiance, she was sure there were things it was best for her reputation that she not be a party to.

"And what would someone of your prominence want with me?" Kevin asked after the door slammed shut and locked behind her as he rubbed his wrists to restore circulation. Secretly he was impressed that a human would even know how to pronounce the real name of his people and not simply call him a _"Moon Elf"_ , _"Knife ear"_ or the more derogatory _"dross"_ that many so-called _"high elves"_ tended to call his kind.

"I need your help to retrieve something very precious to me." Castle whispered.

"I'm not a common thief," Kevin bristled, "I don't rob people for hire."

"I know," Castle replied, his eyes pleading, if not his tone, "but this is a matter of life and death."

"What could possibly be so important that you'd blackmail a Lieutenant of the City Guard to get me out of prison? There are better thieves than me out there, they have a guild and everything."

"The Thieves Guild is not nearly as worthy of trust as the Fellowship of the Forgotten Flower." Castle replied. "I need people whose allegiance can't be so easily bought."

"You are certainly well read," Ryan stated, surprised, "this must be really important then."

Castle closed his eyes, Ryan would not be taken in with platitudes, nor outmaneuvered like Kate had been. When he opened them again, he looked deep into Kevin Ryan's ice blue eyes and told him the truth.

"Somebody has my daughter." He whispered, "I don't know who, but they went to great lengths to get my attention in a way only I would recognize. You're a family man... uhm... elf, a daughter, right? What would you do if it was your little girl?"

"Move heaven and earth and then some, and if they hurt her..."

Ryan trailed off, nothing more needed to be said, he could see it in Lord Castle's eyes and the set of his jaw at the very idea of Alexis being harmed in any way and it sent shivers running up and down his own spine. If whomever this was harmed a single hair on her head, it was clear that there wasn't a place in all of the nine hells where they would be safe from his wrath.

"If I help you, what happens to _my_ family?" Ryan asked.

"Arrangements have been made," Castle replied, "Your advocate knows nothing of this, but I have already set your release in motion. Let's just say that certain nobles have been... _reminded_... what you really visited them for. You should receive notice of your release within the hour."

"What's to stop me from just walking out that door," Ryan asked, "packing my family up and never looking back?"

"You could," Castle noted, "but I don't think you will. I'm very good at reading people and it's simply not in your nature. I will see you day after tomorrow at the south gate."

With that, Castle rose from his seat and swept from the room, leaving Kevin Ryan alone with his thoughts. Though it would take some convincing to satisfy his wife, in two days time he knew he would be waiting at the south gate. Lord Castle was right, if their positions were reversed, there was nothing he wouldn't do.

If anything happened to Lord Castle's daughter because he refused to help, he doubted he would ever be able to look Sarah Grace in the eye again.

* * *

 _ ****Author's Note** Ryan is the youngest on the team in canon, but here he is the oldest by over a century. Wrap your head around that for a moment.**_

 _ **I wrote the first part of this chapter right after seeing "Star Wars: The Force Awakens" and tweaked the rest right after watching "The X-Files"**_

 _ **The "Time of Troubles" was an actual thing in the world of Dungeons & Dragons. In-game it was used as the reason behind the changes in the way magic works was set up after second edition, and in the books it shook the very face Faerun. Though I am taking some liberties with that too. Castle's sword was once wielded by my character "Damar, Son of Krenn" when I played, which is based loosely on Arilyn Moonblade's weapon in the **__**Elaine Cunningham**_ _ **novels "Elfshadow" and "Silver Shadows"  
**_

 _ **Have a good night.**_


	4. The Soldier and the Cleric

**Chapter Four  
The Soldier and the Cleric**

* * *

 _Beyond the boundaries of your city's lights.  
Stand the heroes waiting for your cries.  
So many times you did not bring this on yourself.  
When that moment finally comes, I'll be there to help._

Citizen Soldier: 3 Doors Down

* * *

Javier Esposito carefully schooled his features as he watched Kevin Ryan walk out the door of Lord Weldon's justice seat alongside Kate's father. Bringing the moon elf in had dug up old hurts and even older demons. It had been clear to him that Kevin Ryan was a much better father than his had ever been. Ryan hadn't put up so much as a token fight when he'd slapped the shackles on, even as his little girl cried piteously and his wife shouted obscenities at him in both in the common tongue and several languages he did not understand. It was clear that little Sarah Grace had been carefully shielded from what her father had been doing to keep them fed and a roof over her head. Though he had only been doing his duty, it had broken his heart to do that to them.

Not only were the charges against Kevin Ryan dropped, every single one of the complaining nobility - to a man - had recanted their sworn statements, insisted they had never been robbed in the first place and it was all a misunderstanding. The valuables and pittance of gold that had gone missing had, been misplaced by household valets or simply been otherwise mislaid. Two of them even went so far as to _apologize_ to Ryan in open court for the misunderstanding and to Lord Weldon for inconveniencing the city guard by instigating the month-long manhunt.

With that, the allegations against Kevin Ryan had evaporated as if they'd never existed. He'd left damn little evidence he'd been on their estates as it was and without those sworn statements, there was nothing upon which to even base a preliminary investigation. To even charge Ryan again, they would have to wait for another robbery.

Even now, the glare that Ryan's wife leveled at him on their family's way out of the hall where Lord Weldon held court unsettled him, leaving a pall of guilt in their wake that, as a man of honor, he was not comfortable carrying.

Once upon a time, Javier Esposito had watched his own father dragged away in chains for the evil, vile things he'd done. He and his father had never been particularly close – in fact, Manuel Esposito had been a rat bastard in every way a four-year-old Javier could possibly have imagined, but the true extent of his father's criminal leanings had still come as a shock to him as a boy. He'd attended his father's beheading in the square outside Fortress Rock with his mother when he was five and could not recall shedding a tear for him. His father had been granted a more dignified exit than most of his victims had been.

Javier Esposito truly believed he could spend a lifetime in the city guard and never hope but blot out even half of his father's sins, but that wouldn't stop him from trying. It had been the Paragon, James Beckett - the very man who had dragged his father to justice - who had taken him aside and shown him the possibility of a new path. That he was more than his father's sins, that he could be what Manuel Esposito could not, or had refused to be.

As much as Esposito hated himself for educating Ryan's daughter about her father's activities in the worst way possible, he hated watching a criminal walk even more. It still dumbfounded him that the same James Beckett who had set him on the path of seeking justice had convinced the nobles he was certain Ryan had robbed to do what they did.

What bothered him even more was that Beckett hadn't seemed surprised, nor was she particularly upset about the situation. As if that wasn't bad enough, she'd been spending a lot of time in the company of the Lord Weldon's court sorcerer, Richard Castle all of a sudden, if the rumors around the barracks could be believed. He didn't like it, Lord Castle had a reputation as a drunk and a skirt chaser. Nearly every tavern wench from Dockside to Fortress Rock seemed to have a wild tale in regard to his drunken sexual exploits.

How a man with such an awful track record with women had raised such a stable, well adjusted daughter, Esposito had no idea. Espo was very concerned for Beckett, whom he saw as the sister he never had, ff even half of the stories he'd heard were true. Though he had no control - or say - over whom his work partner chose to associate with, (and she would disembowel him slowly with a dull, rusty knife if he tried) if Lord Castle hurt her, he would drag him to the basement of Fortress Rock and show him just how many ways his shield could be used to ruin a man's day.

After watching Richard Castle talking with Beckett in hushed tones for several minutes, seemingly thick as thieves, he was beginning to feel just a little disgusted, especially after she handed him back the mug she had been drinking out of. Esposito had long been aware of Lieutenant Beckett's taste for expensive coffee, but how the court sorcerer had found out was beyond him as Kate wasn't much for sharing, it had taken him years to find this out about her.

When they got to the part about Ryan going with them to Hollander's Woods, it was the last straw. Dangerous things crawled around in there. Even if it wasn't four day's ride away, it still wasn't the sort of place to go casually.

"Did I hear you talking about going into Hollander's woods?" He scolded darkly. "You know damned well how dangerous that place is, Beckett. Even when your dad was in his prime, he gave that place a wide berth. Only went in there once if I recall to save some _bard's_ kid, years ago."

Esposito saw something close to anger cross Castle's face when he said _"bard"_ as if it was a dirty word.

"Mind your tone, Guardsman," Castle warned, bristling at the perceived slight against Martha, "My mother is a bard, and I will not see her profession maligned in my presence."

"Are you here for a reason, Espo?" Beckett asked dangerously, an eyebrow raised. "Or are you trying to interfere in my personal life again?"

Six years before, Kate had been seriously involved with a member of Lord Weldon's personal guard named Will Sorenson. A few months into their relationship Sorenson had received an offer to join the royal guard in Waterdeep. He'd strung Kate along for weeks after he'd accepted, then asked her - bolt out the blue - to drop everything and go with him the day before he was to depart with no provisions having been made for her advancement. The bastard had even tried to get her released from the City Guard behind her back, going so low as to bring up her father's drunken behavior at the time to cast doubt upon her reputation. Rumors of instability that had persisted, whispered about her at court to this very day.

When Esposito found out what Sorenson had tried to do, he'd invited the man to spar at the training yard and beaten him bloody. Beckett had already turned Sorenson down flat and had been livid with him for interfering in her personal life. It had taken Esposito weeks to earn back her trust.

"No, chica," Esposito backpedaled, "but, by the nine hells, if you think I'm gonna let you walk into _Hollander's fucking Woods_ with only this chuckle-head and a _thief_ to have your back, you have another thing coming."

He nodded in deference to Castle's station, "No offense."

Castle bristled, but Kate stayed him with a hand on his chest and he backed off.

"Do you doubt me, Espo?" Kate growled, not happy about being second guessed publicly by a guardsman under her command in front of witnesses, not to mention sensitive when it came to the subject of her father.

"Beckett, you know I'm with you till the wheels fall off," Espo growled back, "but Hollander's Woods has been cursed since the Troubles and people avoided the place even before that for damned good reason."

"I have my reasons, which I won't explain to you with so many ears around," Beckett hissed quietly. "This is Castle's show and if you insist on coming along, then keep your teeth together and meet us at the south gate, the day after tomorrow at first light."

"As you wish," Esposito replied. He'd made his point, and knew better than to press the subject further, fully aware that if he were anyone else, Beckett would have cut him off at the knees.

"Come on, Lord Castle," Beckett stated after dismissing Esposito, "we'll need a cleric for this trip, and I have just the right one in mind."

When Castle hesitated, she turned back to him, "You coming Castle?"

* * *

"Kevin, do you really have to do this?" Jenny Ryan asked as her husband rummaged through the closet until he found the chest he was looking for and dragged it into the room, "I know he helped keep you out of prison, but where Lord Castle is going is dangerous. Think about Sarah, she needs her father."

"That's why I have to do this, Jen," Kevin replied as he unlocked and opened the case, lifting a matched pair of sheathed slender Elven swords atop a carefully folded set of finely crafted armor of leather and mithril chain mail. "I can't even imagine what that man is going through, not knowing where his own little girl is. I am sworn to the service Corellon Larethian I can't just turn my back."

From the lid of the chest he withdrew the shortbow he had once carried to war against Lloth. He strung the bow and ran his fingers over the light armor. Jenny knew she had no answer, no words that could refute her husband's logic. If it were Sarah Grace, she would not only be preparing her husband for war, she would join him.

"Give it here, Kevin," Jenny whispered, her arms outstretched for the armor he was fingering lightly "I will see it cleaned and made ready before you depart while you see the fletcher to fill your quiver. May Larethian himself watch over you."

* * *

Lanie Parish, Cleric of Pelor was dressed in the yellow robes of her order, performing her duties to prepare the dead for burial. Though she also had a higher calling to protect the living as a devotee of Pelor, the acolytes and ministers had realized early that she had an affinity for the disposition of the dead. She had often been summoned by Lord Weldon's court to oversee the remains of people who had died under suspicious circumstances to determine if foul play had been involved. If such people transitioned to becoming undead, it never hurt to have one such as her to call down the holy smite of her god. The dead should remain dead, no matter how they were slain.

Kate had sent word ahead that she was bringing _"important company"_ but she wasn't one to put on airs when it came to those who entered her domain, be they commoner or royalty. When Kate walked in the door with Lord Richard Castle, Third Under-mage of the Royal Circle of Magi and Court Sorcerer of Lord Robert Weldon, however, she wished she's done something with her hair, or put on a cleaner set of vestments. Lanie had not been prepared for an _"official"_ visit from one of New Amsterdam's inner circle.

Though many dismissed Richard Castle based upon his reputation, Lanie Parish – who would likely have believed them too, had she not witnessed one such "encounter" herself - was under no so such illusions. One of the many benefits of being an acolyte of Pelor was the ability to see through both glamer and illusion spells at will.

The shallow women who had thrown themselves at Richard Castle would be mortified to learn they had gone to bed alone to have the best night's sleep of their lives and one hell of a dream about having him betwixt their sheets while Castle went home,to dote on his daughter.

Lanie figured it was entirely possible that Kate only saw the outer shell of this man instead of the loyal subject of the shire, who had long since sacrificed his own public reputation to keep his daughter out of the public eye.

"Lord Castle," Lanie managed to say with the proper respect due his station, in spite of her mortification at being put on the spot, "what an unexpected pleasure. Welcome to the Chapel of Pelor."

"Save it, Lanie," Kate interjected, "we aren't here on official business. Lord Castle is planning an expedition into Hollander's Woods and we need a cleric. You in?"

"Hollander's Woods?" Lanie asked incredulously. "Are you kidding me? Do you have any idea what;s crawling around in there? The place was a source of dragon and undead activity even before the Avatar Crisis made a mess of things a hundred years ago. Pelor only knows how much worse it's gotten since then!"

Before Kate could get a word in edgewise, Lanie rounded on Castle with an accusing finger poked in his ribs.

"And you, Lord Castle," Lanie hissed, "You haven't been in more than a skirmish since Myth Drannor, what the hell would possibly possess you to go into one of the few places in Faerun that even the Drow avoid like the plague, not to mention rope my best friend into the scheme?'

"I... Castle began, his right hand twitching, but Lanie cut him off.

"I'm sure you're well aware that your illusion and glamer spells will not work on me, Lord Castle, so I want the truth! Out with it, if you want my help."

Castle stopped for a beat and Kate almost thought he'd hang his head, but instead he straightened to his full height.

"My _daughter_ was traveling with that caravan to visit her mother, somebody took her and killed all of the others, including the bodyguard I'd hired to protect her!" Castle hissed back, barely contained fury burning behind his eyes. "The only clue I have as to who took her and where leads straight there. She's my baby girl, and she's in danger. If bringing her home safely means I have to go to the one place in all of Faerun that haunts my nightmares, then that's where I'm _going_ to go, even if I have to go alone!"

With that, Castle stormed from the room, leaving the two stunned women in his wake. This was not the man his reputation suggested. The Richard Castle who had stormed out of the Chapel of Pelor, shouldering past Acolyte Purlmutter on his way, was someone a lot more dangerous.

 _This_ _was the man who had helped clear and retake the halls of Myth Drannor._ Kate thought to herself. _Perhaps there is more to him than I thought._

"You didn't know, did you?" Lanie asked, "It's written all over your face."

"No," Kate replied, "but he had a look much like that one when he'd arrived at the scene of the caravan attack and saw the body covered in rose petals. I had no idea."

"Okay, girlfriend, I'm in." Lanie replied, "Let's help Lord Castle bring back his little girl."

* * *

Two days later, in the early hours of the morning, a patrol of five was seen departing the south gate of New Amsterdam. Though it was not unusual for Guard Lieutenant Kate Beckett and her trusted Sergeant, Javier Esposito to be leading a patrol out of the city gates at any given hour, the three others riding out with them seemed hazy and indistinct, as if viewed through a dark cloud. In fact only one set of eyes trained upon the scene recognized Richard Castle at all.

No one noticed as Will Sorenson slipped away to report to his master that the man he sought was on the move.

* * *

 _ ****Author's note** Just to avoid any confusion, according to the Forgotten Realms Wiki, "The Time of Troubles" and "The Avatar Crisis" are the same incident. It has several other names as well.**_

 _ **Have I just let slip another of the big bad's minions? Oh dear me I did didn't I? I never did like Will Sorenson. Of all of Kate's exes that have appeared, he is the one who hurt Kate the most. I just love to hate on him.**_

 _ **Enjoy**_


	5. Chronicles of the Dragon

**Chapter Five  
Chronicles of the Dragon**

* * *

" _Something's wrong, shut the light  
Heavy thoughts tonight  
And they aren't of Snow White_

 _Dreams of war, dreams of liars  
Dreams of dragon's fire  
And of things that will bite, yeah"_

Metallica - Enter Sandman

* * *

 _The rampaging elder black dragon BahorAgyrtCiym descended from the skies upon the helpless village bordering his territory. His mighty roar scattered the villagers he found there and for the most part, those who simply fled in terror were allowed to pass unmolested as a warning to the next village about the perils of ignoring the rampaging black dragon's demand for tribute._

 _He made first one pass spewing his acidic breath weapon, then a second and a third until he had laid waste to houses, crops and virtually annihilating their meager defenses. The powerful acid spewed from his maw ate away equally well at the armor clad bodies of any pathetic soldiers who'd dared stand and fight against him, as it had the collection of wood and stone structures of their pathetic little village. Only when any meaningful defense of the village had ceased, did he set down on on his feet to slaughter any further token resistance._

 _Those villagers not wise enough to have fled nor lucky enough to die in his initial assault were hunted down and dispatched with his sharp six inch talons, his powerful jaws or crushing sweeps of his armored tail. He fed heartily upon them and their farm animals within sight of the smoldering wreckage until his hunger and blood-lust were finally sated._

 _The last sound any who fled would hear from what remained of their ruined charnal house of a village was his triumphant bellowing roar before he once again took to the skies. BahorAgyrtCiym, the Black Death, jealous lord and master of Hollander's Woods had exacted his tribute in blood..._

* * *

William Bracken woke with a start. It was always the same dream.

Dreaming at all had been the hardest thing for him to get used to in the hundred years since he had been trapped in this pitiful form. His newly acquired subconscious had begun to torment him from the very first night, and nearly nearly every night since. Bombarding him with sense memories of the wind flowing under his beating wings and whistling against his scales. The rush of his breath weapon blasting from his maw. The wet, slick sensation of bipeds crushed beneath his feet, torn apart by his claws or rent asunder buy his mighty fangs. Dreams that tortured him with the memories of what he once was. What he was meant to be. What he would be again, if it was the last thing he ever did.

Every morning when he woke to this nightmare, wrapped in the pale, weak, wingless human form he was trapped within, with its spindly, claw-less limbs, jaws and teeth barely deserving of the name, an alien maw unable to spew forth his acid breath weapon, roar properly, nor even pronounce his own name, he felt the sense of violation and rage anew.

He had once been, BahorAgyrtCiym, _The Black Death_. He'd claimed this forest as his own as a youth and stalked unhindered as its undisputed master for over a thousand years, shaken the very ground under his feet and rent the air with his roar sending all but the bravest of puny bipedal mammals fleeing in terror.

His treasure hoard had been the envy of all but the eldest ancient, commanding the attention of breeding females the length and breadth of Faerun. He'd mercilessly slain any interloper and would-be treasure hunter who dared enter his domain, leaving their acid-burned, sun-bleached bones littering every clearing for miles around as a warning to meddlesome fools.

* * *

Nearly one hundred years ago this very day, he'd made a bargain with the Drow spider goddess, Lolth, allowed her pet priestesses to transmute him into Drow form to get the better of her chief rival, Zinzerena, the Drow deity of chaos, patron of assassins and illusionists, not to mention a fierce rival for the dark elves' hearts and minds whom Llolth had longed to be rid of long before the God's War had ever begun.

When he'd gone back to Lolth for what was promised him - the return of his true form and ascent into godhood in Zinzerena's place - the transmutation spell had backfired and he'd been made human instead.

She'd laughed in his face before ordering her Drow to kill him and unbeknownst to her taught him the one advantage of his current form: He could not be killed. He'd awakened not far from his lair in Hollander's Woods shortly thereafter, unsure how he'd come to be there and from that day forward he'd begun to plot and scheme, determined to have his revenge upon the Spider Queen if it took him a thousand years.

The first decade had been spent learning the pale mortal magics of necromancy, transmutation and alteration. Enough to turn on the necromancer who had taken him on as an apprentice, broken his will and drained his mind dry of every shred of arcane knowledge he'd possessed, which had been considerable... for a human.

* * *

He'd spent decades after that researching how to undo what had been done to him, amassing not only the knowledge to bring his goals to fruition, but also the loyal servants and lackeys he would need to do his bidding so he could keep his own hands clean.

To that end, he'd started a mercenary company that quickly made a name for itself by defeating Drow surface raids, which had won him some amount of notoriety as a Drow-slayer. He rather enjoyed thumbing his nose at the goddess who had betrayed him while gaining the power and influence he'd needed to operate with impunity in human lands. It had taken years to slowly corrupt the minds of the men and women he'd needed, drawing converts from across the lands of men. His efforts had slowly but inexorably borne fruit, drawing to his banner not only a dedicated corps of fanatically loyal shock troops, but also eyes and ears across the length, breadth and depths of Faerun, including Lolth's subterranean domain of Menzoberranzan.

Twenty-nine years ago he'd acquired everything he'd needed, having located a dead magic zone dating from the time of troubles within his own domain in Hollander's Woods and a living vessel to hold the magical power needed to free him from the shackles of his pitiful human form. A biped already broken to his will who would perform the deed as soon as he stepped from the dead zone. The plan had been flawlessly executed... right up until a human whelp had wandered into the woods interrupting the spell, sending the magic into him instead of the receptacle he had chosen, immediately followed by the sudden appearance of a Paladin of Heironeous who'd killed his trusted lieutenant, Hal Lockwood, several of his best men and scattered the rest. By the time the dust had settled and he'd recovered sufficiently from the effects of the null magic zone to enter the fray, both the Paladin and the boy were gone.

It was weeks later that Bracken had learned the spell could not be repeated by the same caster and he'd needed to find the boy if he wanted his plan to work.

* * *

Richard Castle had grown to adulthood in the time it had taken his spies and mercenaries to find him. Bracken had not been surprised to learn he'd not only developed an affinity for magic where there had previously been no potential at all, but he'd become a prodigy. The magic of the vessel had become part of him, and his potential as a mage had grown exponentially over time. But not as powerful as Bracken would have suspected, until he had slipped close to the man in a dark tavern and surreptitiously cast a detect magic spell on him.

James Beckett had obviously detected the raw power within Richard and bound it, rendering the magic within the traumatized boy dormant, the full measure of it only accessible in times of great peril if tales of Richard Castle's actions in the halls of Myth Drannor were any indication.

In hopes that it would weaken the binding spell and prevent James Beckett from interfering again, Bracken had dispatched one of his assassins to seek _Johanna_ Beckett out, beseech her to summon her husband for aid against a great evil, then cut her down mere moments before he'd arrived, leaving her to die in his arms.

James Beckett's complete self destruction had been swift, and much more complete than he had dared to hope for. When it was certain that the now former Paladin had been truly broken and no longer posed a credible threat, he set the wheels in motion to abduct the daughter Castle had doted upon since her birth.

* * *

Shortly after his newest chief lieutenant, Cole Maddox had taken the girl and left the cryptic message for Castle, his eyes in New Amsterdam reported that the man had gathered a rescue party and departed for Hollander's Woods.

Bracken practically salivated at the inevitable conclusion that he would soon unfurl his wings and take to the skies once again. When that day came he would exact a terrible bloody tribute from the human race for every single day he had been trapped as one and slaughter every single Drow he saw for the next thousand years to avenge himself upon the Spider Queen as well.

Though he was so close he could nearly taste it, he could not afford to falter this close to his goal. Richard Castle's motley band could not be permitted to reach his domain before he'd shed the binding spell James Beckett had placed upon the magics within him, preventing him from becoming the vessel for BahorAgyrtCiym's restoration.

For The Black Death to once again take wing, the sleeper must awaken.


	6. Personal Revelations

**Chapter Six  
Personal Revelations**

* * *

 _And now its my time, it's my time to dream  
Dream of the sky  
Make me believe that this place isn't plagued  
By the poison in me  
Help me decide if my fire will burn out  
Before you can breathe  
Breathe into me_

"I Stand Alone"  
written by Sully Erna  
Performed by Godsmack

* * *

Five horses moved carefully along the long disused road on which they traveled, the once paved surface partially grown over, plant life having reasserted itself over the many decades since its regular use, narrowing the road considerably. The road was barely wide enough to allow two horses to stand abreast on a road that had once supported wide heavy heavy wagons. Once upon a time the road had lead to the ruins of the village of Tralgar, at one time a major transit hub connecting the ports of New Amsterdam with the rest of Faerun.

In the final, tense days leading up to the Time of Troubles, the village had been utterly destroyed by a black dragon known only to the villagers as _"The Black Death"_. The soldiers who had been dispatched the following day had found a charnal house of demolished, acid-burned buildings and ruined fields. Not a single man woman or child had been spared nor a single farm animal or stray dog left alive. Its vaults, taverns and storage houses had been laid waste, leaving only smoldering buildings and the whispering wind.

It had taken four days to recover the few bodies that could be found buried in the debris which were intact enough to identify. In the end, they had been buried in a mass grave with only a marker blessed by the Chantry of Pelor to mark the their passing. Shortly after identifying the few intact remains of their fellow villagers, those who had fled the destruction vowed never to return and disappeared to the four corners of Faerun.

Plans to rebuild Tralgar were soon delayed by the series of short, brutal wars both during and after the Avatar Crisis and were ultimately abandoned due to the lack of people willing to relocate there and the transit hub was quietly moved to a more secure location further north. A new village gradually sprung up around it and quietly prospered, leaving the ruins of Tralgar to pass into history and the silence of its dead.

The dragon had disappeared soon after the attack, never to be seen again. Many suspected that, after eating so heartily, he had simply crawled into his lair somewhere deep in Hollander's Woods and gone into torpor, but few were eager or brave enough to enter his domain to seek him out. The few that had sallied forth, spurred on by tales of the vast riches held within never returned. There was plenty of profitable and much less dangerous work for eager adventurers to make a name for themselves, especially with Drow surface raids on the rise shortly after the troubles.

In spite of his haste to rescue Alexis, Richard Castle was no fool. He had been every bit as diligent in his research in the two days between his outburst in the Chapel of Pelor and their departure from New Amsterdam as he would have been with any spell he had not yet attempted. He'd wanted to know where exactly he was going and what he was walking into.

Though he knew that this road had not been part of the regular patrol schedule for decades -bandits had little interest in a road where no trade goods moved – The New Amsterdam City Guard still maintained a series of guard houses along part of it for defense purposes, though few who ventured this way strayed far from the road. Whatever crawling nasties were out and about seemed to know when the monthly patrol was coming and gave it a wide berth, which didn't give the guardsmen who drew the short straw much comfort.

Kate had Javier had _volunteered_ for the patrol, which had drawn attention, but did provide enough of a cover for five riders to be seen leaving through the South Gate and turn onto the old trade road. The last time she had done so was shortly after Will Sorenson had trashed her reputation at court to refute his claims of her diminished capacity and prove she was still fit to serve, so she was familiar with the established patrol route, though neither she, nor anyone else from the City Guard had ever been further than the midway point between New Amsterdam and the ruins of Tralgar in over a century.

After two days ride, they had reached the last of the fully maintained guardhouses along the route and Kate had felt increasingly guilty as each mile of the road slipped by under their horses hooves. Though Castle had been more almost pleasantly surprised to find not only Ryan, but herself, Lanie and Esposito waiting for him when he had arrived at the south gate, he'd barely spoken a handful of words to any of them since mounting their horses to depart New Amsterdam.

She'd based most of her assumptions about him upon his reputation at court and completely overlooked how the son of a commoner might have come to be such a high-ranking member of Lord Weldon's inner circle in the first place. She had asked Knight-Captain Montgomery about Richard Castle after he'd walked out of the chapel of Pelor and the story had shocked her.

* * *

Though it was known throughout the shire of the part Weldon and Montgomery had played in the battle to retake Myth Drannor, little had been recorded of the battle-mage who had fought at their side. Castle had not been content to remain in the rear casting spells and throwing fireballs around like most of the other mages at the time. He'd drawn a sword and walked right into the fray, eventually standing shoulder to shoulder with her two heroes, outnumbered three to one after their their position had been cut off and overrun. With no armor and at the risk of his own life, he'd taken two crossbow bolts meant for Weldon yet stayed in the fight and saved both of his and Montgomery's lives, nearly bleeding to death in the process.

After the halls had been secured, the royal house of Evereska had personally decorated the newly minted Lord Richard Castle for valor above and beyond the call of duty. Though he should have been paraded through the streets and lauded as a hero, instead he chose to remain in the shadows and allow his actions at Myth Drannor to be overlooked by all but Lord Weldon, who had given him a position of prestige in his court and a place of honor within his inner circle.

He'd been able to raise a well adjusted daughter in spite of his reputation at court because that reputation had been a sham. A lie that had been allowed to propagate in order to keep Lord Weldon's rule over New Amsterdam intact for over a decade. A reputation Richard Castle had no more deserved, that she had deserved hers at the hands of Will Sorenson and a few nobles who thought she should simply shed her clothes and fall into their beds because they winked and nodded at her from their positions of noble-born power.

Lord Weldon had made many reforms in how New Amsterdam was run since the royal family had installed him as Lord of the Shire. There were those who mistook his benevolence for weakness and sought to usurp him. Many of those threats were not made in open court, but in back rooms or dockside taverns and needed to be dealt with by one who's hands were not seen as nearly so clean. Richard Castle's lack of noble pedigree made his supposed reputation easier to sell and he'd foiled more than one threat to Lord Weldon's regime with very few the wiser. Many such anonymous plots simply withered on the vine after a conversation with Castle in a dark alley or over a tankard of ale with little or no bloodshed. The conspirators in those that didn't tended to have very public and very messy accidents.

* * *

Kate was fully aware that this wasn't some romp in the woods to poke his head into a dragon's lair to see what happened, or some strange come-on like so many others before had tried with her. He was placing himself in harm's way this to save his daughter. He'd treated her with more respect than most and all but begged for her trust and she'd as much as told him she would give him neither.

They'd finally turned off the road onto the short path leading to the reinforced guard house. It's two story stone structure with an open cupola at the top, virtually identical to the others they had stopped in over the past two nights and dismounted their horses. Castle cast a detect magic spell revealing nothing unexpected, simply the protective wards that kept biting insects and vermin out.

As each of them began the laborious task of tending to their horses after a full day's ride, Beckett's eyes kept turning toward Castle as he released his mount into the paddock to graze and entered the guard house, eliciting a scoff from Esposito, seeing to his own mount.

"Don't know what you see in that guy." Esposito muttered, "He takes you down _once_ in the training yard and suddenly you're pining after him like an errant schoolgirl."

"Espo, you know nothing about him you didn't hear crowed about in some tavern," Kate shot back, "I've actually taken some time to get to know him and he isn't as bad a guy as I thought at first glance. You should try it sometime, instead of believing everything you hear from tavern wenches down on the docks."

"If I recall you thought the same thing about..." Espo began, but was cut off by a death glare from Kate,

"You do not want to finish that sentence." Kate hissed sternly, before turning on her heel. "You and Ryan finish securing the horses and check the perimeter fence. We make for the ruins of Tralgar at first light. Guardsman Esposito, you have first watch."

With that, Kate stalked away from a rather shocked Esposito and followed Castle into the two story stone structure of the guard house.

"Come on, thief," Espo growled, giving Ryan a rough shove on the shoulder in the direction of the perimeter fence "we have honest work to do."

In a flash of movement so fast Esposito had no time to react, Ryan grabbed him by the wrist and flipped the larger man over his shoulder sending him sprawling onto his back. Before the shocked Esposito could recover, he found a boot pressed to his chest and the point of one of the Moon Elf's two slender swords at his throat.

"Let me make this perfectly clear, _Guardsman_ ," Ryan growled angrily, "I am _not_ a thief. I am Kevin Ryan, Brother of the Forgotten Flower, acolyte of the noble god Corellon Larethian and sworn guardian of the Teu-tel-Quessir heritage. It was my sworn duty to retrieve priceless artifacts of my people which those nobles had stolen whilst desecrating the war graves of our honored dead. Those artifacts are now on their way to the royal vaults of Evereska, where they will be kept in sacred trust until such time as they can be safely returned and re-buried with honor."

With a near silent hiss, Ryan's sword slipped back into its scabbard, before he removed his boot from Esposito's chest and offered him a hand up.

"Now, as you said, there is work to be done," Ryan offered as he helped Esposito to his feet, "we shall speak no more of this."

* * *

Kate stalked into the main sleeping area of the guard house, the frustration with Esposito bubbling of from her as soon as she spotted Lanie at the circular hearth at the center which served the dual purposes of heating the guard house and cooking their rations. She had started a fire and had just begun adding wood to get a decent blaze going, the implements and materials to prepare food and coffee were resting at her feet. The place would soon be comfortably warm and they could share a meal. This would be the last relatively secure camp site before they reached the Tralgar ruins and Hollander's Woods. The next one would require a lot more work to set up, as it had not been used in thirty years, and then only hastily so.

"Ryan told me he would set some traps and maybe bring in some fresh game to offset our dry rations for a decent meal tonight, maybe even enough for a decent breakfast in the morning." Lanie offered.

"Our Mr. Ryan has quite the skill-set for a thief," Kate quipped in return.

"Kate, I've been around the block a few times, even did a bit of adventuring myself in my early years with the order, and it's clear to me that Ryan is no mere thief," Lanie replied. The armor and weapons he's wearing speak more to an Elven light cavalry ranger, of relatively old manufacture."

Lanie waited a beat until she was sure that Kate was following her reasoning, then continued.

"It is highly doubtful that a professional thief would have been spotted at all in order for such a complaint to be openly filed against him, not to mention the Thieves' Guild would have hustled him out of town long before Javi could have caught up with him. Have you ever known the nobility to back down when they've caught somebody stealing from them? Or better yet to _apologize_ for the _misunderstanding_? I think there's more to him that meets the eye."

"So everyone keeps saying," Kate muttered, "Lord Castle included."

Kate couldn't get the image out of her head of the anger in Jennifer Ryan's eyes, directed not at her husband but at boring right at Esposito as if she meant to burn him down from the inside out. Which spoke volumes as to how much she knew about what what Kevin was up to and why. She looked every bit as lethal in her own way as her husband did when he appeared at the South Gate in Elven light battle armor, two slender swords crossed at his back and a bow that looked like it had been _grown_ , not constructed. Kate wondered if there might be another bow and another set of battle armor in the Ryan household.

 _Espo might need to be wary should he ever pay another visit to the Ryan household unannounced,_ Kate thought to herself.

"I should have the fire hot enough to brew some of that expensive coffee of yours," Lanie offered to change the subject, "I think I saw Castle head up the stairs to the officer's quarters. If you want to mend fences with him you could offer him a cup."

Kate nodded and started for the stone steps leading to the second floor where the patrol officer would typically take up residence and was unsurprised to find the fully appointed quarters (complete with cot and map table) completely untouched other than Castle's bag and chest at the bottom of the spiral staircase leading up to the open air cupola which commanded the road for miles.

Every fourth patrol would stay out an entire fortnight and bring along a repair crew to keep the road from completely closing up and perform maintenance on the towers. This tower would serve as the base of operations, to send two person teams out to make sure the road wasn't being used by smugglers, slavers and the like. The patrol commander would keep watch for signal fires from the other two from the cupola above, if there was any real trouble, the guard force could fall back toward the city collecting all of the repair crews as they went to bring in a reinforced company to deal with it.

The patrols had become mostly a formality. Nobody who went on them really wanted to find anything, at least not the sort of things that Hollander's woods was known for. Whatever was out here in these dark haunted woods certainly didn't wish to be found, either. The last time a patrol had turned up anything had been almost thirty years ago, shortly before she'd been born.

A performing troupe of minstrels and bards had foolishly decided to take a shortcut through the old road to shave a few days off their trip and had run afoul of Kobold dragon cultists drawn by the proximity of a lair. In the ensuing chaos a young boy had gone missing, his frightened mother beside herself when the patrol had happened upon them. Her father had only recently taken his oath as a Paladin and it was only by chance or divine providence that he had been along.

He had taken charge of the patrol, rescued the boy and broken up whatever ritual they had been trying to perform involving human sacrifice. She'd heard the story many times, most notably the night before their departure, but her father never mentioned the boy's name. After returning him safely to his mother, her father had personally lead a more substantial force to Hollander's Woods, but the cultists had faded into the woods as if they'd opened up a hole and pulled the ground over themselves. Her father had personally led two more patrols there, but no sign of the dragon-kin or the bodies of the sacrificed young women had ever been found.

She'd gone with him on his last trip to the outskirts of Hollander's Woods when she was nineteen as his squire. It had been exhilarating to watch her father perform the rites to cleanse the site of the human sacrifices and attend to his duties as a Paladin of Heironeous. Her father had been her hero then, she'd been in absolute awe of him and remembered wanting to follow in his footsteps.

Guard-Lieutenant Kate Beckett tried not to dream such dreams anymore, not since the end of that patrol when she and her father had come home to find her mother's still warm dead body in her office. Nor did her thoughts linger too long upon the depths her father had fallen to afterward. It had taken him five years to climb out of that hole, and another five to find a place for himself in the world. She'd had to harden her own heart to carve out the life for herself that she had. One day, however, she would find the sons of bitches who'd killed her mother and broken her father. When she did, there would be a reckoning.

Kate shook off her recollections as she pushed up on the trap door at the top of the stairwell to cupola to be met with the most mournful flute music she had ever heard flowing around her. When the door was open enough to poke her head up, she stopped, transfixed.

Castle was stripped to the waist, sitting cross-legged with his back turned to her less than three feet away, his hands holding the flute to his lips as he played, pouring the mournful notes of his grief out to the night sky.

His back was patterned with a collection of scars. The two puckered evenly-spaced scars on his left shoulder bore silent witness to the two crossbow bolts Montgomery had told her about that had nearly ended his life twenty years before and a longer one down his left side, the graze of a blade on unarmored flesh. But what truly caught her attention were the fifteen interlocking white scars from a lash that looked years older.

Her instincts pulled at her in opposite directions, the first to flee and leave Castle alone with a pain she could only imagine -his daughter out there in the dark, held prisoner by gods only knew what - and his flute, the other to run to his side hold him and tell him everything would be all right. That they would find his little girl and bring her home safe. But she followed neither, his sad mournful song holding her transfixed, hot tears pouring unbidden and uncontrolled down her cheeks.

His daughter was out there somewhere and Castle had no idea whether she was alive or dead. But he had girded himself for war for the first time in twenty years on the off-chance she might be, shedding the facade the world knew him by in the process.

When Castle stopped playing, the mournful notes of his flute no longer broadcast through the small space and the spell was broken. Kate fled, her heart burning with shame for trespassing on Richard Castle's private pain and for having misjudged him so very badly on the word of the same people who also thought such vile things about her. Whom Castle had not believed when he'd sought her out for help, even though she had only wished to be rid of him.

Kate hid her face from Lanie as she took a seat at the fire.

"He's busy," she whispered, barely able to keep the emotion from her voice, "I didn't wish to disturb his meditations. I'll take him some coffee when it's ready."

* * *

The small band of adventurers had been so intent upon their own thoughts and revelations as it grew dark that nobody noticed the many eyes upon them from the dense forest, nor the shapes melting in and out of the dark just out of sight to block the road back to New Amsterdam.

" _Let them come"_ the Black Death whispered in the Kobold's minds in the dragon tongue, _"make no move to press them, but don't let them escape. The one I need will need his rest, his time will come soon."_

* * *

 _ ****Author's note** Dun! Dun! Dun! Took me a bit to get this worded the way I wanted it. As much as I was hoping to make word count, I wanted the story to make sense more. Did you really think I could avoid going dark? I had to let Ryan work things out with Esposito -or at least begin to, and Kate needed to get a better idea of who Castle was. Enjoy!**_

 _ **(Yes, Bracken can get in the Kobold's heads projecting his true self into their minds. He's even more of a slippery manipulative bastard than he was on the show. I forgot how much fun writing this stuff can be)**_


	7. Confrontation

**Chapter Seven  
Confrontation**

* * *

 _"In brightest day, in blackest night,  
No **evil** shall escape my sight.  
Let those who worship **evil's** might,  
Beware my power, Green Lantern's light!"_

The Green Lantern Oath

* * *

Kate once again mounted the stairs to the officer's quarters, a steaming coffee mug in each hand, almost gratified to hear the sound of the trap door to the cupola snap shut from the base of the stairs, she was satisfied she would not be trespassing further upon Lord Castle's private meditations.

She felt badly enough for misjudging him as it was, though she'd come back up as much to avoid the tension between Ryan and Esposito as to make her peace offering. It had been a long time since she'd seen the normally jovial Esposito so clearly uncomfortable in his own skin. Obviously some sort of _"meeting of the minds"_ had taken place outside and it had ruffled his feathers.

Castle's head snapped around when she tapped on the doorjamb.

"It cools off quickly out here at night," Kate offered, extending one of the two mugs to him and his eyes seemed to brighten in gratitude, "I thought you could use something to ward off the chill."

Castle took the mug from her hands, his fingers brushing hers lightly, a spark passing between the two of them for the brief second of contact before he accepted the mug from her and put it to his lips, breaking the connection as he hummed contentedly, his sorrows seemingly forgotten for a moment.

When his blue eyes met her green ones, it was as if two long-lost souls met for the first time and finally seen each other as they are, not what their separate worlds had tried to force them to be.

"Thank you, Kate," Castle whispered glumly, "I know I haven't been much fun to be around."

"You had your reasons," Kate offered, "I can't even imagine what you're going through."

"She's all I have, Kate. I can't lose her," Castle whispered. "If whoever this is has harmed her..."

Kate could see rage flash briefly in his eyes as he trailed off, a brief hint of what would be unleashed upon whomever this was if they'd harmed a hair on his little girl's head. If Alexis was truly lost to him, she knew that rage would consume his soul, much like hers and her father's had a long time ago. She would not wish to be standing between him and the architects of this act of treachery should that occur.

She edged him into one of the chairs by the map table, sat next to him and dropped one of her hands to cover his while they sipped their coffee. This single moment of companionship was the only thing she could offer him. By the next afternoon, they would reach the Tralgar ruins with the heart of Hollander's Woods not far beyond and their thoughts had to be clearly focused on their objective if they were to have any hope to succeed.

Kate had pored over her father's journals from that period after talking to Montgomery to search for clues. Her father had definitely been focused on... _something_ connected to that incident thirty years ago, but it was clear from his writings at the time that he couldn't put his finger on it... there was always a piece missing. Then her mother had been murdered and turned both of their lives upside down, sending him into a self destructive downward spiral he'd only recently managed to crawl out of.

Her father had broken up a ritual by dragon cultists at the site of one of the most destructive dragon attacks in the last century within days of it's anniversary, returned every few years near the same date, only to be taken out of play ten years ago. Now, nearly one hundred years to the day of that attack, a gifted magical prodigy was kidnapped so soon after the stars were once again coming into the same alignment. Whatever group was involved might be gearing up to try again.

In her own mind, Kate knew that ritual her father had broken up thirty years ago must factor into Alexis' abduction somehow. The look in his eyes when she told him whom she was going this deeep into Hollander's Woods with had sent shivers down her spine. That they were only a few hour's ride from the site of that ritual, not to mention its proximity to a former dragon's lair with a history of dragon kin activity could not be coincidence. In her own mind the puzzle pieces seemed to be falling into place.

* * *

James Beckett paced in his office. He knew that his daughter was walking a dangerous path when she'd asked to peruse his journals. He'd heard about the caravan attack of course, the body covered in rose petals - just like the sacrifices had been on those altars thirty years ago - which had drawn the attention of the only other person who had been there at the time and was still alive. He hadn't told Katie, but the boy, Ricky Rodgers had changed his name to Castle not long after coming of age to put the incident behind him, shortly before the power that had manifested in him had forced him into the tower of Magi instead of the city guard as the boy had hoped.

He had personally performed the ritual to bind that power shortly after the incident, spell had likely weakened in the years since his fall from grace. He feared his daughter was walking into something she didn't understand and might not be able to overcome. Even after thirty years he still didn't quite understand what the Kobolds had been trying to accomplish in Hollander's Woods that night. Necromancy was not typically in their skill-set, not without at least an elder dragon to guide them.

Jim removed his sword, Dragonsbane from the mantle, took a knee before the battle standard of Heironeous and prayed, seeking guidance from the god to whom he had once devoted his life, then abandoned in favor of strong drink when his beloved Johanna had died. He only hoped he had not strayed so far from the path and that Noble Heironeous would still listen to his plea as he threw himself upon his mercy and begged for forgiveness.

The bulk of his prayers were not for himself, however. They were for Katie, Richard and his young daughter. He hoped his prayers would be enough, but if more was required, he would strap on his tarnished armor, sally forth and do his best, whether Heironeous chose to forgive him or not.

His daughter was out there.

* * *

The departure from the last maintained redoubt was much less tense than the other two had been. Castle and Beckett had spent much of the previous evening talking about what little he knew about that night, as well as where they would go next. They had a lot of ground to cover and not much time to do so.

From what Castle had learned in his research of the official reports and Kate from her father's journals, they had only a scant few days before the hundredth anniversary of the Tralgar attack and the Time of Troubles was upon them. It was unspoken, though readily apparent between them that they had to find Alexis before the ritual he had interrupted as a boy could be reenacted, whatever that might be.

Once the beginnings of a plan were sorted out, they'd moved on to more personal topics, clearing the air between them of old misunderstandings and past wounds to find they had much in common. After talking until they'd run out of words, they retired to their separate sleeping bags downstairs and surrendered to a good night's sleep.

The group woke the next morning, prepared a brief breakfast and then departed the redoubt for the ruins of Tralgar, Castle and Beckett's horses side by side, the two of them stealing glances at each other from time to time when they thought the other wasn't looking.

Lanie rode only a single horse length behind them, with Ryan and Esposito taking rear guard. Her eyes missed nothing as Richard Castle and her friend rode, apparently blissfully unaware of her scrutiny. By the expression on Lanie's face and the look in her eyes, she seemed pleased.

"About damn time," Lanie whispered quietly to herself, silently blessing their newfound friendship, hoping it would blossom into more, but secretly pleased that at least Kate had finally found somebody worth her time.

From what she could hear, it was clear that the two knuckleheads behind her had managed to sort things out between them too, if Ryan's chatter about how proud he was of his little girl was any indication. Lanie Parish had a sense about people, which told her that Kevin Ryan and Javier Esposito had a lot more in common than either of them initially thought. Circumstance may have made them partners, but given time, they might become friends. ' _Provided Jenny Ryan doesn't kill Javi first,'_ Lanie mused to herself. ' _That one is a real firecracker.'_

The final redoubt was only a few hour's ride from the Tralgar ruins, it had originally been part of the village's outermost defense perimeter but was under the treeline and far enough away from the village proper to have gone unnoticed during the attack a hundred years ago. As such, it was likely the only part of the village still standing.

* * *

As they rode into the crumbling remains of what had once been the village gate, none of them had proven unaffected. Of the group, only Castle and Ryan had seen full scale warfare close up. Esposito had been in battles and skirmishes aplenty, but not destruction of this level. All of them were moved.

Lanie dismounted her horse and led it to the marker erected by her order nearly a hundred years ago, her expression a study of deference and respect as she carefully brushed aside the ivy wrapped around it. At her muttered prayer, nearly a century of lichen parted beneath her fingers and fell away revealing the thousand names of the dead buried beneath it. Fifty-six of whom had been young children below the age of ten.

"Tread lightly," Lanie spoke softly as the empty brazier at the marker's base flared to life, "this place is hallowed ground."

As they neared what had once been the center of the village, they were actually surprised to find the keep looming above them. It was apparent that there had been at least some attempt to rebuild it, though only the first three stories seemed to have been completed before the project was scrapped. Both Castle's and Ryan's eyes appraised the concentric circles of neatly arranged heavy stones that had at one time been slated for the upper two floors of the tower - now covered over in vines and lichen - for their defensive possibilities.

Ryan carefully eyed places from which he could use his bow, Castle noted where he could place protective glyphs and wards to fill in any gaps in the defense and they both liked what they saw. A large scale assault would be difficult to mount as the concentric rings of stones would break up any attacking formation. The builders had obviously been wary of assault during the aborted reconstruction efforts and had placed the heavier building materials accordingly. A detail which had been left out of the records during the ensuing decades.

"This place must have been abandoned in a hurry," Esposito noted, "no way a decent stone mason would have left this much unused building material lying around if they'd had time to move it."

When all eyes turned on him, he shrugged sheepishly, "I apprenticed for a mason one summer, those guys account for every pebble on every job."

"This arrangement was no coincidence." Castle noted darkly. "whatever happened here, the Dwarven construction crew had been concerned enough to set up a defense perimeter before they bugged out."

"Lets get the horses bedded down," Kate offered, "we'll need to take a look around before it gets dark. Something doesn't feel right about this place."

The day proceeded without incident as the small group went about the business of securing the tower and their defense perimeter. Castle levitated a heavy stone and dropped it over the opening in the stairwell of the unfinished third story of the tower to prevent an interloper from sneaking in from above while the rest set about securing both ground floor entrances to the tower.

As the day wore on, they seemed satisfied with their efforts to secure the long abandoned partially rebuilt tower, which would serve then well enough in their efforts to locate Alexis. As daylight faded, they stoked up the fire inside the hearth and set the watch. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

 **A few hours later**

A loud clamor rang out within the tower as the outer ring of Castle's wards were breached and began wail. Castle leaped from his cot fully dressed and grabbed his armor as did their companions did they same. When they piled out into the night to meet the threat, they were met with dark shapes that slipped from the forest and around the various heavy stones.

Too many for their own good and unable to form proper ranks in the uneven ground, the Kobolds came on. Castle, Beckett and Esposito were on them with the clashing of steel and mithril. Ryan and Beckett had found their way onto the high ground and each set loose a hail of arrows, unerringly catching kobolds in the eye or the throat.

Esposito was using his sword and shield to good effect, but he marveled as Castle's presence on the field. Where he employed brute force and heavy armor, Castle practically flowed through the thick of battle, seamlessly transferring from melee to spell-casting in a way the soldier had never seen employed on the battlefield before. It was clear to everyone that, though, the obstructions were keeping the Kobold force from fully exploiting their superior numbers, there were still too many of the dragon-kin to be fought head-on.

"Castle there's too many!" Beckett shouted from her perch.

"Then it's time to even the odds!" Castle shouted back, pressing his open palm to the nearest Kobold and cast shocking grasp. As the dragon-kin twitched and spasmed, Castle tugged it closer, yanked off it's ill-fitting helmet and drew a sigil onto the stunned creature's forehead with its own blood.

Without pause, Castle kicked the still-twitching creature into a tight knot of his compatriots where it promptly exploded in a shower of blood and gore, killing all of the others but two, who staggered back into their ranks where they promptly exploded, setting off a chain reaction that tore into the Kobold reinforcements until the spell called virulent walking bomb, lost effect.

In the momentary quiet that followed as the Kobolds fell back, the neighing and nickering of frightened horses could be heard.

"The horses!" Ryan shouted as the Kobolds melted back into the forest. "They're driving off the horses!"

By the time they got to the corral they had set up for their mounts, the horses were gone, scattered into the woods, likely headed back up the road as fast as their legs could carry them.

* * *

An hour later, after their vain efforts to retrieve the horses, the entire group filed back into the tower and barred the door. It was clear to Lanie that all was not well as she looked them over and tended the various cuts and scrapes they had.

"The attack was a ruse to distract us so they could run off the horses." Ryan spat, "they could have overrun us any time. Even with the obstructions it was clear they had the numbers to wear us down."

"I'm with him," Esposito said, surprising them all, "they want us right where we are and it's clear they don't want us dead yet, but why?"

Both of them looked at Castle. "I've been trying to figure that part out myself since before we left," he added. "why kidnap Alexis? If it was revenge, why not just kill her, or kill me before we got this far? I have no idea what they want from me, but I aim to find out."

"What do we do now?" Esposito asked, "we certainly aren't getting out of here in a hurry, and there won't be another patrol for weeks."

All eyes turned to Beckett.

"We do what we came here to do," Kate stated. "We find Castle's little girl and we figure the rest out after that. Mystery aside, we have a duty to protect the citizens of New Amsterdam. If there's a threat here, we have to find out what it is and warn Lord Weldon."

Esposito nodded, squaring his shoulders. He had sworn an oath to protect and defend and would do so to his dying breath.

"How do we find her?" Lanie asked, "It's not like whomever took her left a note saying _'this way to my secret lair'_ or something."

"With this." Castle lifted a very faintly glowing locket from under his shirt, "I had it made shortly after she was born and kept it in a safe place for just this sort of circumstance. I never thought I'd need it for more than sentimental value after she was grown. She was always more into the research side of sorcery, not battlefield magic."

"Is it supposed to glow like that?" Kate asked.

"It's attuned to Alexis' life force." Castle answered, "The closer it is to her, the brighter it glows. It's how I know she's still alive and she can't be too far away."

"Okay," Kate replied, "since we have proof of life, we proceed as planned and rescue Alexis. When that's done we fall back here, get her ready to travel then it's a running fight back down the road back to New Amsterdam. We can put the word out and return in force to deal with the real threat."

At everyone's nod of assent that the plan was set, including Esposito's reluctant one, Kate turned to Castle.

"Castle, you and Ryan go back out to reset your wards and traps." Kate commanded, "everyone else try to get some rest when you aren't on watch. We bloodied their noses good and proper, but provided they don't return tonight to finish the job, we're gonna have a long day tomorrow and we'll need to stay frosty."

* * *

 _ ****Author's Note** The plot thickens...**_


	8. Alexis

**Chapter Eight  
Alexis  
**

* * *

 _Liberty or death, what we so proudly hail  
Once you provoke her, rattling of her tail  
Never begins it, never, but once engaged...  
Never surrenders, showing the fangs of rage_

Metallica, "Don't Tread On Me"

* * *

Alexis Castle woke in a cage, still unsure how long she had been there. Several days to a week if she were to hazard a guess _._ Her recent memories tended to come in flashes when she closed her eyes.

She remembered the caravan attack, Allison shoving her into the back of the wagon before drawing her enchanted blade to enter the fray, then a lot of screaming and the silence that followed before a rough looking man dragged her from the wagon and everything went dark. The next thing she could recall clearly afterward was the inside of the cage in which she found herself, her world reduced to the small space surrounding it, though it didn't seem to be a permanent structure from the draft coming through the barred window.

She'd faded in and out periodically, which lead her to believe they wanted to keep her from getting her bearings. Unbeknownst to her captors, however, she'd managed to figure out which portion of her food they'd drugged to keep her docile during her more lucid moments and taken to tossing it into the bucket they'd provided for her to relieve herself in. Thus she was much more clear-headed than her captors believed. Her Grams had long ago taught her how to play the role her audience expected to see.

The man who'd taken her prisoner, _(Maddox she'd thought she'd heard them call him when they thought her to be unconscious)_ was straightforward enough. He was obviously a mercenary, though quite loyal to his employer. It was the older man apparently holding Maddox's leash, Lockwood, that scared her to death. More than once he'd told Maddox that this would all be over soon, that maybe he'd give her to him as a plaything when this was over, an idea which made her skin crawl.

From the other snippets of conversations she'd overheard the last few days, her father and a party he'd recruited to help him rescue her were camped northwest of where she was being held, someplace they called _"the old ruins."_ Alexis knew that her father was nearby with plans to come for her, information that her captors had wanted to keep from her ears. She knew that he would not be content to sit idle for long. He'd be coming soon, likely just before dark.

If she were prepared, she could be out of her cell when all hell broke loose.

One of the benefits of her chosen field of study in magical research was how to _craft_ magical spell components, not just how and where to procure them. She'd been busily using the blunt spoon she'd pocketed to scrape filings from the bars of her cell when she thought nobody was looking. Soon, she would have enough metal filings, wood shavings and other cobbled together components to do some serious damage.

The man who brought her meals had been too busy looking down the bodice of her traveling clothes to notice neither that anything had been amiss in her tiny cell, nor that she was not as incapacitated as her captors believed. He clearly fancied himself a mage in his own right from the bag of crafting materials in his belt, not to mention _her_ wand dangling from it.

Her grams had also taught her to be quite adept at picking pockets and Alexis figured if she could entice the man within arm's reach the next time he slid her evening meal under the bars, she would have everything she needed when her father made his move. If Maddox or Lockwood got in her way... so much the better, she'd teach _them_ that she is not some helpless innocent, but a powerful mage in her own right, with a temper and a long memory. Even if it all went wrong, at least she'd go out swinging like Allison had, not trussed up to be gawked at like a piece of meat.

* * *

Castle, Beckett and the others spent the day preparing their weapons and reinforcing the keep's meager defenses.

Alexis was intelligent, resourceful and quick. _'Smarter than myself and Meredith combined'_ Castle mused to himself. He'd taught her everything he could before sending her to the circle. As long as she wasn't incapacitated somehow, he was certain she would find a way to be ready when the fireworks started. If not, he would carry her out if he had to. Once they'd secured her, they would bunker up in the broken tower, do their best to hold out until dawn and then make a break for New Amsterdam at first light.

 _'And if they've harmed a hair on her head,'_ Castle thought darkly to himself, _'I'll make them wish they'd never been born_. _'_

Alexis had been his whole world since the day she was born. Though he was certainly not a knight in shining armor like he'd dreamed of becoming since the night Paladin Beckett had rescued him all those years ago, but he had been and always would be hers.

As each of them prepared their gear and weapons, Castle approached Beckett, clearly lost in thought. When she turned to face him, he withdrew a sheathed dagger from his belt and presented it to her.

"I want you to have this," Castle whispered.

"You know, Lord Castle," Kate quipped, trying to lighten the mood, "sometimes a girl just prefers jewelry."

"Lady Katherine," Castle replied without skipping a beat, but with little humor behind it, "was that a hint you just dropped?"

"Why yes, Lord Castle, I think it was." Kate clarified, but her attempt at humor did little to change the atmosphere as she drew the six inch straight dagger from its sheath and flipped and twirled it in her hand to gauge its balance, which was nearly perfect.

"This dagger is the companion weapon to Armageddon," Castle explained, patting the pommel of his sword, "I don't use a dagger much in combat, but if one of us becomes lost or separated, either of these weapons can be used to find the other, or they can be used to find me."

"Castle..." Kate began as she sheathed dagger, but he stopped her before she could thrust it back into his hands.

"This doesn't mean we're engaged or anything," Castle whispered, curling her fingers around the weapon as he pressed it to the breastplate of her armor, "but your family has come to enough grief because of mine. I won't be the cause of more."

He'd pressed his mother for details about the night he'd become lost in the woods and she'd told him that she had been the one to convince the caravan to take the shorter route down the old trade road back then. She'd oft told the story or sung songs of the dragon attack on Tralgar Village and jumped at the chance to see the place for herself. At the time she'd thought it would be a grand adventure, a chance to show her son a place of power and mystery, a decision, she'd agonized about for years since.

He'd wandered off from camp, gotten lost and stumbled into something dangerous he did not understand, setting off everything that followed after, now even Alexis was caught up in it. He couldn't let anyone else suffer for his family's sins, least of all the family of the man who'd saved him. He'd set this in motion when he'd wandered into the woods and now it was his responsibility to set it right, whatever the cost.

* * *

Tracking Alexis had not proved difficult. Between Kate's knowledge of the location of the ritual from her father's journals and his enchanted locket, they'd found the clearing quite readily. Only the Kobolds were nowhere to me seen. Instead, a campsite with a small number of human mercenaries greeted them. The emblem on their armor was unmistakable.

The Black Dragons were one of the most well known and highly respected mercenary companies in Faerun. Begun nearly fifty years ago by a mage named William Bracken, they had first made a name for themselves, rooting out and destroying Drow raiding parties in the dales. It was incomprehensible to him that they would be behind the kidnapping of his daughter and the deaths of fifty innocent people. If they truly were involved, then something had to be seriously wrong.

First things first, however, they would get his daughter back and figure out the political fallout later.

* * *

 _ ****Author's note** There will be more soon. I'd wanted Alexis' rescue to be in here too, but this was what I had ready in time for #CastleFanficMonday.**_


	9. Rescue?

**Chapter Nine  
Rescue?**

* * *

 _"I'm your dream, make you real_  
 _I'm your eyes when you must steal_  
 _I'm your pain when you can't feel_  
 _Sad but true_

 _I'm your dream, mind astray_  
 _I'm your eyes while you're away_  
 _I'm your pain while you repay_  
 _You know it's sad but true_  
 _Sad but true"_

Metallica: "Sad But True"

* * *

All seemed quiet and peaceful in the clearing as the sun went down, then twilight gave way to the inky darkness of night and the stars became slowly visible one by one. Camp fires were stoked to cook the evening meal as the guard rotation changed in the Black Dragon mercenary camp. The outgoing perimeter guards had nothing new to report to their counterparts taking over the watch, other than their Kobold "allies" gave them the creeps, popping up at odd intervals from out of nowhere shortly after sunset and that they weren't being paid enough to be camped out in the these gods forsaken haunted woods for days at a time.

Soldier's gripes that would have been almost amusing to Kevin Ryan in his tree-stand hiding place waiting for the watch to disperse. His charcoal gray cloak serving both to keep out the evening's chill and to break up his silhouette. He and Beckett had drawn the detail of dispatching the perimeter guards as soon as they changed the watch. With his vision switched over from normal sight to infravision he watched the relieved guard stride into camp, knowing the human's night vision would be gone the minute he came within sight of the camp fires.

Ryan slipped his cloak from his shoulders, slid soundlessly to the ground and slit the nearest guard's throat with his dagger. As the man dropped to his knees his compatriot was dispatched with equal efficiency by the same dagger thrown with uncanny accuracy, cutting deep into the man's neck. Though Ryan found such killing deeply distasteful, it was necessary to prevent the perimeter watchmen from sounding the alarm for their plan to work. The best he could do to salve his conscience was to send them to the void as quickly and painlessly as possible.

From Esposito's blunt objections earlier it was clear to him that Beckett might had deeper concerns about this method of killing than he did. If so, he would perform the dark deeds himself and not speak a word of her _"weakness"_ to anyone. It needed to be done to have tactical advantage over their more numerous highly trained enemies and there was no time for hesitation or squeamishness on her part. He did not think less of Beckett that she found herself unable to dispatch someone this way. Sometimes he wished he still couldn't, either. Not everyone had it in them to look another person in the eye and slit their throat, but the war against the Drow had made him learn to do things he'd never thought himself capable of before he'd answered Corellon Letharian's call a century ago.

When he was finished with his grim business, he dragged the bodies back into the bushes where they would not be immediately found and covered them with branches before collecting his cloak and padding silently into the darkening woods with a whispered prayer to Corellon Letharian for forgiveness, not for their sins but his own.

* * *

With no perimeter guards to raise the alarm, the mercenary camp never saw the attack coming. One moment, the wooded clearing was was quiet, but for the ghostly song of night-birds or the chirping of crickets, and the next... bedlam! Fire rained down from the sky, exploding upon contact with tents, campfires and mercenaries alike. Castle held nothing back as he launched fireball after fireball, then drew his sword and marched into the camp right at Beckett's heels.

Bursts of fire and electricity flew from the fingertips of his left hand and Armageddon flashed in his right as he gave himself fully to the flow of battle, burning, shocking or cutting down anyone who rose between him and the small stockade in the center of the camp. By the time he reached it, the door promptly exploded outward in a shower of splinters, followed by the charred corpse of a man who had obviously stood between his daughter and her bid for freedom.

Moments later she was in his arms and from the haunted look in her eyes it was clear that she hadn't meant whatever spell she'd hit the man with to detonate with such force, only to slam him through the door. ' _The likely result of using impure, cobbled together spellcasting components,'_ Castle's own circle training supplied in the back of his mind. He pulled Alexis in and swallowed her in his embrace as she launched herself into his arms.

* * *

Cole Maddox watched the father/daughter reunion from across the clearing.

Though Castle's more forceful rescue attempt had not been anticipated, his orders were still the same. He cranked and locked his crossbow then selected a bolt that wouldn't pass through the redhead's body and injure the vessel of his master's ascendance.

" _Richard Castle must not be harmed,"_ the voice in the mercenary's head whispered as he took aim, insistent and uncompromising. " _The girl must die in her father's sight. That which sleeps within him must be awakened"._

* * *

Kate caught sight of the man with the crossbow out of the corner of her eye, and with a cry of warning shoved Castle and his daughter out of the path of the bolt at the last second, taking it in her own shoulder instead, which spun her about and dropped her to the ground like a marionette with its strings cut.

"Kate...no!" Castle screamed and a barrier he had not known existed shattered and his eyes went completely black. Raw, unfocused elemental power burned in Castle's veins, surging though his muscles and nerve endings With a twitch of his left hand, Maddox was wrenched from the ground where he stood, his crossbow flung across the clearing burned and melted beyond recognition as nearly the clearing burst into flame.

Castle released Alexis, simultaneously unleashing a vortex of energy with their group in the center that tore into every mercenary in the clearing, igniting a firestorm that charred even the surrounding trees. A pure expression of Richard Castle's rage.

Castle clenched his fist and every bone in Maddox's body was first broken then crushed as if squeezed in a giant vise. When Castle opened his fist, what was left of Cole Maddox exploded into a bursting fireball one hundred feet above the clearing, every shred of his body burned to cinders and scattered to the four winds.

Everything in the camp, but for the spot on which his companions and daughter stood, staring at him with mix of awe and fear had been charred and twisted beyond recognition by his display of raw, terrifying elemental power, even the dead bodies smoldered where they fell.

With both his rage and power expended, Castle dropped to his knees then pitched forward face-first onto the ground.

"Dad!" Alexis shouted as she knelt beside her father, rolled him over and pulled his head onto her knees, his eyes once again blue as they stared sightlessly up into hers, her vision swimming with tears "Dad, snap out of it, you're scaring me!"

"Whatever that was, he seems to have expended himself," Ryan stated flatly as he knelt over Kate to examine where the bolt stuck out of her armor. Shoving cloth dressings around Kate's wound to staunch as much of the bleeding as he could, dragging a moan from her lips. "Lieutenant Beckett might make it if we can get them back to the tower."

When nobody else seemed to break out of their trance, Ryan rose and shoved Esposito violently, slapping his left bracer against the larger man's armor.

"Guardsman!" He shouted in Esposito's face "We have wounded, let's move!"

Esposito shook off the daze he had been in and lifted Kate into his arms to carry her from the field. Though Castle was still in a murky haze, with Alexis' help Ryan was able to get him up and the group of companions moved out as quickly as they could.

* * *

Ryan had noted signs of Kobold activity in the area, but from what he had overheard earlier, it would seem their partnership with the Black Dragon mercenaries - if there had ever been one - was either fraught with discord, or they were at cross purposes under the direction of a third party. That there was no sign of any attempt on their part to come to the mercenaries' aid during the attack led Ryan to believe that either was likely, as it was clear they had kept the mercenary camp under close scrutiny.

He wanted to get Castle's daughter, Esposito and and his two helpless charges as far from the camp as possible before they decided to investigate in force now that the loud noises had died down.

As the group struggled out of the clearing, Ryan put his fingers to his lips and let out a low, but clearly audible whistle. Seconds later a charcoal gray horse with a black mane Esposito had never laid eyes on before emerged from the shadows. This was not the mount that Ryan had departed New Amsterdam astride, that much Esposito knew for sure. Even without the saddle, bridle and armored livery it was clear this was no ordinary mount, but a warhorse of proud and almost noble bearing.

Her name was _Nightshadow_. Ryan remembered the day she had chosen him as her rider nearly a century ago, their bond cemented in battle. She would follow him until he died and then drift back into the woods from whence she came. Until then she would never be far from him.

Ryan helped Alexis settle her father to the ground while Esposito improvised a travois from branches along with their cloaks. Ryan then secured it to his faithful mount, while whispering in her ear in Elvish. It was clear she was accustomed to such work as she took to it without so much as a wicker of complaint as first Castle then Becket were lowered into place.

Ryan helped Alexis onto Nightshadow's back and they moved out again, this time at a much improved pace with Ryan and Esposito on full alert with weapons drawn, their eyes on a swivel for pursuit. The closer they got to their improvised bastion in the Tralgar ruins, the clearer it became that there would not be any.

* * *

Lanie had descended upon Beckett as soon as they were in the doorway and barred the door. She indicated for Esposito to carry her wounded friend upstairs to the relative privacy of the officer's quarters where she had him hold Kate down while she removed the crossbow bolt. Lanie noted the odd smell as she finally worked the broadhead bolt free of her armor without jostling the point too much and noted how Kate had been taken down so easily.

Poison.

Kate's leather armor had kept the bolt from penetrating fully which had spared her the full dose, or she would have been dead before she'd hit the ground. Clearly this bolt had been meant for someone not wearing armor, had a bodkin point been used, it would have gone right through.

"C'mon Kate," she muttered, "do not die on me! Stay with me! Stay with me!"

Lanie whispered prayers to her god and her whole countenance began to glow as she muttered the litany of healing spells while she applied poultices to draw out the poison and had Espo prepare a brand to cauterize the wound. When the blood around the wound ran clean again, Lanie nodded and he applied it where specified.

"Stay with me! Do not die! C'mon, girl!"

Kate's piercing scream could be heard throughout the tower.

* * *

Castle was lost in a dark haze, a place of shadowy forms and half forgotten images flitted in and out of the shadows, none remained still long enough or visible enough for him to see clearly.

The cacophony of myriad half heard echoes of indistinct voices occasionally became clear enough for him to were too many voices, he couldn't keep them clear in his head. He tried to wake up, tried to shut them out but there were too many... until a hazy, indistinct form slowly coalesced, gaining form from the shadows. Chestnut curls and penetrating green eyes that seemed familiar but not, but her calm even soft voice silenced the others.

" _For the dark son born of light to prevail,"_ Johanna Beckett whispered to him softly, _"The Black Death must rise again..."_

He heard a dragon roar, saw a flash of light and then the dream was swallowed by darkness.

Castle sat bolt upright so quickly he nearly toppled his daughter from the side of the cot on which he lay. He saw Kate on another cot nearby, nearly serene in slumber covered by her cloak.

"They brought her down an hour ago," Alexis whispered, "Sister Parish said Lt. Beckett needs rest and to be kept warm and asked me to keep an eye on her while she rested."

Castle nodded and sipped from the flask of water Alexis offered him.

"I don't know what came over me back there, Pumpkin," Castle whispered, "I'm sorry for scaring you... but when Kate went down... something just snapped, I can't explain it."

"I wasn't going to ask," Alexis whispered.

"You weren't asking very loudly," Castle replied, softening for his daughter, before pulling her to him and kissing the top of her head. "I am so proud of you."

* * *

William Bracken sat back in the chair overlooking his still wondrous treasure hoard with tremendous satisfaction, The deed was done.

The power that would be his salvation had been reawakened, he could feel it in the overcharged firestorm that Richard Castle had created.

Tomorrow would be the last day.

When the next night fell, precisely one hundred years from that fateful cursed night, the spell that had robbed him of his true self would finally be broken and BahorAgyrtCiym, the Black Death would rise again.

William Bracken laughed.

* * *

 _ ****Author's Note** Uh oh... if Bracken is happy, then what evil plot could possibly be in store for our intrepid band of heroes? I guess you will have to stay tuned for the next thrilling installment of DRAGONSLAYER!**_


	10. Destinies Intertwined

**Chapter Ten  
** **Destinies Intertwined**

* * *

 _Once in a dream  
_ _Far beyond these castle walls  
_ _Down by the bay where the m_ _oonlit water falls  
_ _I stood alone while the minstrel sang his song  
_ _So afraid I'd lost my soul_

Styx, Castle Walls

* * *

As the day wore on and shadows began to grow longer, Richard Castle examined their meager defenses. They only had to hold out until Kate was fit to travel, but no matter how he weighed them in his head, the odds just wouldn't line up in their favor. They were a handful of people, his daughter included, against a horde that likely outnumbered them exponentially. They might be able to repulse them once or twice, but with Kate wounded and their dwindling resources it was simply a matter of time before they were overwhelmed by sheer weight of numbers. Even if Lanie could get Kate up and fit to fight, he could still only give them two days, possibly three once the fighting broke out.

Whether they survived the night or not, he had an obligation to keep, an oath he swore before Alexis had been born. He knew that word must get out about the large, organized Kobold force at New Amsterdam's doorstep. For their number to be this large and coordinated meant only one thing... an elder dragon holding their leash at the very least. Only one of their number was in any position to do that. Though it was clear that Kevin Ryan was not the sort to abandon a fight and run, his horse would accept no other.

Ryan had voiced his opposition loudly, but eventually his objections were countered by Castle's logic.

With heavy heart and a sense of purpose, Kevin Ryan swung into his saddle and with a single sweeping turn and a rearing leap disappeared down the road.

* * *

The Kobold army appeared at the outer perimeter just before dark, each member of the massed force carrying a burning torch in one clawed hand in a clear show of their superior numbers. A human male approached bearing the white flag of truce, flanked by a bodyguard whom Alexis recognized as Lockwood, the man who'd held her prisoner. A man they'd all thought dead.

There wasn't much choice. Castle knew he would have to parley if he was to buy enough time for Ryan. If the Elven Ranger and his mount rode hard, it was possible that he would find help. But even if Weldon believed him and roused the guard, any forces he could muster would be days away. He unbuckled his scabbard, handed Armageddon to his daughter for safekeeping and strode out, flanked by Esposito to meet him.

"You come out to surrender?" Castle quipped, his face becoming a neutral mask. Only a few people in his life knew that he tended to make inappropriate jokes when he was nervous.

Bracken laughed, his head tilted backward with undisguised mirth. The first genuine moment of levity he'd experienced in nearly a century. Almost feeling genuine guilt that he would need to sacrifice the man when his plan came to fruition. Very rare was the bipedal mammal who could amuse him so.

 _'Guilt,'_ he thought to himself, his mirth gone in an instant, _'another human concept I will not miss."_

"You and your pitiful band have only one thing of value to me," Bracken stated in an even tone. "Surrender it to me freely and I will let your friends and your daughter leave in peace."

"And what might that be?" Castle replied.

"You." Bracken said. "There is a task I need you to perform, a spell only the _"Dark Son, Born of Light"_ can cast.

Castle drew in a sharp breath. He'd told no one about the dreams he'd been having for years. The woman bathed in near blinding fire calling him the _Dark Son Born of Light_. The dreams that told him he had a destiny bound to a dragon called _"The Black Death"_ , an evil that only he could put down.

It was why he'd wanted to join the Knights of Silverymoon, why he'd trained so hard. Why he'd thrown himself so deeply into his magical studies. Why he'd drawn a sword and walked willingly into the battlefield at Myth Drannor. It had shaped and colored his life since he was eleven years old, dragging James Beckett and his entire family along for the ride, the guilt for which weighed upon him heavily.

 _'Is this a servant of The Black death?'_ He asked himself. _'Has my "_ destiny _" come down to this choice?'_

"I will give you one hour to decide to either say your goodbyes or dig the graves of all who stand with you, Richard Castle," Bracken stated coldly. "One minute after that, I will give the order for my Kobold thralls to drown you all in a sea of blood."

* * *

The road between Tralgar Village and New Amsterdam had grown accustomed to silence, rarely broken by more than the whisper of the wind and the rustling of leaves. It had been so long neglected by the hands and wheels of man that the rhythms of nature had long ago begun its reclamation, the dark shadows of night cloaking it in silence.

But that long accustomed silence was shattered by the fevered clattering of horse's hooves as the lone horse and rider plunged through the night like two creatures possessed. Ryan and his faithful mount, Shadow, knew this pace was slowly killing her – a fate he felt keenly through their blood bond, which both of them understood and accepted. Both knew the circumstances were dire, consequences accepted in equal measure when weighed against the lives hanging in the balance if they failed to bring help in time.

Shadow knew she was running toward her own death. Sweat beaded from her legs and flanks, saliva foaming around the unfamiliar bridle between her teeth, her breathing becoming more and more labored with every mile that flew beneath her hooves. Her battle to the death no less pronounced than the one awaiting the companions they were forced to leave behind. A price she had accepted the moment the noble war horse had chosen and accepted a rider. If they did not find help in time to save the others, they would all die, including the kind one with the pale hair and soft hands, which spurred Shadow on in spite of tiring legs and pounding heart, sending her surging forward.

The part of Ryan bound to her mourned, but failure was not an acceptable option while she drew breath and her legs could run. So on they rode... until they happened upon something that stopped them both in their tracks.

* * *

Castle agonized over the decision as he hugged his daughter fiercely while she wept and begged him not to go, but he had to weigh his life against his daughter's, against Beckett's against all of them and the arithmetic only came up one way to him. He didn't trust this William Bracken to keep his word as far as he could throw him, but if he could buy Ryan one more day, or even an hour, it might mean the difference between life and death for the others. He couldn't allow Alexis, Kate or any of them to die for his crusade. He kissed Beckett's unconscious forehead and turned to face his destiny.

" _For the dark son born of light to prevail, The Black Death must rise again..."_

When he once again stood before William Bracken, he looked the man in the eye then bowed his head.

"I surrender."

* * *

 _ ****Author's Note** Welcome to this fic's transition from the Castle Winter Ficathon to the Castle Summer Ficathon. I'm hoping to have enough story left to get this fic up to 25K to meet the minimum goal, which it only just missed this past winter.**_

 _ **Yes, I know... it's a cliffhanger, and I'm a meanie, but it is going somewhere, I promise. I have stuff prepared for the next chapter, which I'm hoping to have up in time for CastleFanficMonday.**_


	11. Transfiguration

**Chapter Eleven  
Transfiguration**

* * *

 _There in the fog his song kept calling me  
Leading me on with its haunting melody  
Deep in my heart a voice kept echoing  
I knew I'd soon be wandering_

Styx: "Castle Walls"

* * *

Castle was lead away, past rank-upon-rank of Kobolds, more than Castle had ever heard of, gathered into one place. It would take a powerful dragon indeed to overcome the clannish natures of the dragon-kin that normally tended to keep their numbers small, rarely bigger than raiding parties. Scores of them assembled in common purpose was almost unheard of. Without a strong leader, such and army would crumble shortly after the first engagement.

"Where is this Black Death?" Castle asked, barely registering that he had asked the question out loud. "Do you serve him?"

Bracken's undisguised mirth once again wracked him with bouts of nigh uncontrollable laughter.

"Serve him, Richard?" he asked rhetorically, "I _am_ him, or I was and with the magic you misappropriated, I will be again. I will have back my true form, my wings, my claws, my teeth, the ability to speak my own true name! When I have back everything that bitch-queen Lolth stole from me, I will avenge myself on Drow and mankind alike for every decade, every year, every single _minute_ I have been trapped in this pitiful accursed form!"

Rick stopped dead in his tracks, stunned at the revelation. He still had no idea what he'd walked into all those years ago, what all of those sacrifices had been for, but now he was beginning to draw a very terrifying picture of what was to come, but the dreams offered him the one hope of stopping the nightmare scenario that Bracken painted, as repugnant as they idea might be to him to give Bracken what he wants.

 _"For the dark son born of light to prevail, The Black Death must rise again..."_

He only hoped he could buy Alexis and his companions back at the ruins time to escape, because he knew, once he had outlived his usefulness to the Dragon their lives would become forfeit.

His introspection was interrupted when bracken turned back to the direction he'd been walking before, and muttered to Lockwood, "Bring him."

With a rough shove on his shoulder, they were off again, deeper into the forest.

The deeper into Hollander's Woods they went, the more distinctly he could feel the void where magic should have existed. Such eddies and currents around a great nothing could mean only one thing: The presence of a null magic zone off in the distance - any decent mage with enough power could detect it. There were places dotted here and there all across the face of Faerun where the scars from the Time of Troubles had never healed. Tears in the veil between magic and nature that magic users of any skill level did their best to avoid. Magic either ceased to function at all in such places, or even the most simple, basic spells could go terrifyingly wrong without warning.

He'd heard tales from his masters, warnings to steer well clear of such places. Among the worst being fireballs going berserk and destroying caster and target alike. Another, a simple cantrip to light a campfire roasting the caster, the woman he was trying to impress, and burning an entire forest to the ground in the ensuing fireball.

"Are you proposing to send me in there?" Castle asked.

Without turning or even skipping a beat, Bracken chuckled.

"Why no, Richard," he muttered, his voice taking on an almost conversational air, as if they were discussing the weather or the merits of participants in the Grand Melee, "I have personally charted this node and great pains will be taken to keep you quite safely outside of its area of effect. I have also carefully plotted how long its null-magic properties take to wear off. I will be in the very center of it for one hour and you will be given a spell to recite as soon as I have emerged. I trust you can read Drow?"

Castle nodded. He had been taught to read and write the Drow language using a text written by the Drow ranger Drizzt Do'Urden himself. Though his conversational fluency in their dialect of the Elven language was suspect, (how often does one get the chance to chat with a live Drow on the surface?) he could read and write their language with great precision. Well enough to recite a spell, at any rate.

Bracken turned back toward their destination. "You will be provided a proper meal and a place to rest while you study the spell, you will need every once of your strength for tonight. I expect you to be well rested by sundown. Contrary to popular belief, you will find my hospitality to be quite generous."

"Oh, and one more thing, Richard," he rounded upon Castle to look him square in the eye, the pleasant conversational tone never leaving his voice, "in case you have a mind to try something clever, I am intimately familiar with every single word of that spell. If you utter so much as a single syllable or glottal stop of it incorrectly I will not only have every one of your friends put to a violent death, I will have your daughter brought before me in chains and disemboweled while you watch. Do we understand each other?"

Castle nodded. While his friends and his daughter were under threat there was very little else he could do, but hope that Ryan rode hard and fast.

* * *

"You let him do _what_?" Kate shrieked when she was finally roused from the healing spell Lanie had put her under. Esposito had been prepared for her to be upset, but she was more accurately apoplectic with rage. "What the hell, Javi! I know you didn't like him very much, but I trusted you!"

"He did what he did to buy us time to get you up and about so we can get his daughter out of here," Esposito objected,. "You're right, I may not see in him what you do, but I can respect that much."

"If you think for one minute that we're leaving Castle in the hands of the maniac who kidnapped his daughter," Kate hissed as she sat up and began putting on her armor careful of her still tender shoulder, "you have another thing fucking coming!"

"Woah, woah, woah, girlfriend," Lanie insisted, catching her as she stumbled, "you're in no condition to mount any sort of rescue just yet. You need time to work that arm and you need to eat something."

"She's right, Beckett," Esposito agreed, "from what little I heard, he wants Castle to do something for him, we have time to plan something, and we will need the cover of darkness to get out of here undetected anyway. "

As the last rays of sunshine began to wane, and the small group slipped from the tower under cover of darkness. Kate Beckett leading them, holding the dagger Castle had given her. Hoping it will lead them to him in time. They'd pulled his daughter out of that hellhole and he'd surrendered himself to keep them safe. She was determined to get him out safe.

* * *

The door to Castle's locked room opened to reveal Lockwood standing in the doorway.

"Tine for you to do what you were brought here for, Lord Castle," he muttered, "Come with me."

Castle rose from the single cot in the room, he passed the small desk and chair, slowing only to collect the sheet of age yellowed parchment with long-dried blood on it that had been left with him. Drow language or no, he knew a transmutation spell when he saw one. Lockwood pressed a bag of the necessary components to set the spell in motion, pointed at the indistinct figure of his master emerging from the shifting mist before stepping away from him.

Castle crushed the components and recited the spell, feeling the overcharged power rise within him, setting forth the same vortex of magical energy as he repeated the spell again and again. The energy from the spell pouring from him and swirling around Bracken, lifting the man clear off the ground.

Tendrils of magical energy surrounded and penetrated him as the glow completely enveloped him, while his body began to morph and transform. His body grew larger, neck longer, head stretched and elongated, jaws and teeth grew, limbs and claws extended.

When the spell finally dissipated, William Bracken was gone. In his place, BahorAgyrtCiym, The Black Death reared up on his hind legs and let loose a deafening, bellowing roar for the first time in one hundred years before launching himself into the sky, disappearing into the night, his roar an expression of pure joy.

The Black Death was once again loose upon the world.

Castle fell to his knees, power spent. Before he could pitch forward, one of Lockwood's men stepped forward with a dagger to slit his throat, only to be met with the business end of a mithril shield directly into his face, breaking his nose and sending him reeling backward to the ground.

Before another could approach, Esposito whirled on him.

"TEMPUS!" he shouted before throwing his sword at the man, the weapon whirling end over end until the blade speared into the man, impaling him just beneath the collarbone and pinning his dying body to the nearest tree. Before Lockwood could turn and engage him, a wall of fire leaped between Bracken's henchman and Esposito.

Alexis Castle appeared seemingly from nowhere, red hair flying wildly behind her with wand in one hand and spell components in the other as she faced off with Lockwood.

"Taste my magic, old man!" she growled as she sent lightning from the wand into Lockwood, followed swiftly by crushing prison, grinding every bone in his body to dust before reversing the spell and tearing him limb from limb.

Esposito yanked his sword loose from the corpse allowing to drop free from the tree. He wiped it clean on the corpse and sheathed it before hauling Castle to his feet, then throwing him over one shoulder to carry him out of the clearing to meet up with Beckett and Lanie.

By the fierce look in Kate's eyes, the blood on Lanie's mace and the three bodies at their feet, it was clear that they had decided not to remain out of the fray.

Lanie gave Castle a once over and was sufficiently convinced that he was uninjured to not bother making Esposito put him down. At her affirmative nod to Alexis' unasked question, everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

"Let's get out of here," Beckett stated calmly, "before somebody takes it into their head to come after us. As soon as we can get Castle on his feet, we need to get as far from this place as possible before that damn dragon can come back."

With that they moved out, taking advantage of the momentary confusion among the Kobold ranks to make their way back to the relative safety of the broken tower. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

BahorAgyrtCiym's wings flared as he neared the ground and he soft-landed near the entrance to his lair. This had been a night he had long awaited since the day he had been trapped in human form. He wanted to savor this moment for a brief time, the feel of his claws, the shroud of his wings.

But he also knew he was yet vulnerable. His scales were as sof newborn, his body had yet to begin the long process to build up enough acid for his breath weapon. He needed to consume sulfur and platinum from the ready supply in his lair. He spied the small shack he had lived in as a human and smashed it flat with his tail before entering the mouth of the cave.

He felt content that Lockwood had done his work and that Castle was dead. He had plenty of time to have his friends and daughter dealt with. For now he would rest surrounded by his treasure hoard. The disturbing "dreams" banished forever, just like that small shack had been.

The Black Death would begin his reign of terror... tomorrow.

* * *

 _ **Happy Castle Fanfic Monday everybody.**_

 _ **And let us not forget the men who stormed the beaches on 6 June 1944. Their bravery and sacrifice ensured a victory over tyranny and quite literally saved the world.**_

 _ **Honor the fallen.**_


	12. The Paladin Lives

**Chapter Twelve  
The Paladin Lives**

 _Far beyond these castle walls  
Where the distant harbor meets the sky  
There the battle raged like hell  
And every dove had lost its will to fly_

Styx: "Castle Walls"

Beckett and her company of adventurers had barely managed to drag the still barely conscious Castle back to their tower when a host of torches massed in the darkness surrounding it. They stretched almost as far as the eye could see, and entire army of Kobold ranks dressed in full battle array. Their purpose was clear, they would assault their position and sweep them from the field using sheer force of numbers.

The first ranks of the enemy began to advance upon their meager defenses, to be repulsed by a hail of arrows from Kate's bow along with lightning and fire from Alexis' wand and fingertips only to be replaced by another. It had become clear to her and Esposito that unless help arrived to relieve them, they might be digging their own graves behind these walls. They all knew that their only hope was to hold as long as they could until help arrived.

Castle was still barely coherent. Lanie had done everything she could to get him on his feet, but whatever the dragon's minions had done to him had left him barely able to sit upright, much less draw his sword or cast spells. Kate's arrows were almost gone and they were outnumbered well over a dozen to one with no hope to defeat the host before them. Their predicament was dire indeed.

If Ryan _had_ forsaken them - or nobody had believed the word of an accused thief - and no help came, they concluded unanimously - Alexis included - that they would at least make the dragon-kin bastards work for it.

* * *

Kate had loosed her last arrow, dropped her bow and drew her sword, prepared to defend Castle and his daughter with the last of her strength when from out of the gathering dawn, the clarion call of a war horn sounded.

From her vantage point on the wall, Kate saw a mass of soldiers swiftly deploy in echelon from the road, form and dress their ranks. She strained in the darkness to see the banner of the first cohort of New Amsterdam's vaunted XIIth Legion – along with the personal battle standard of their Lord Marshall, Robert Weldon.

With disciplined military precision, the first cohort advanced, fully in the field with the second deploying smartly behind them, flanked by Company A of New Amsterdam's heavy cavalry, bearing Knight Captain Montgomery's personal colors. Kate stood in awe, as another battle standard appeared in the gathering dawn, one she had long believed would never see open air again: the gleaming battle standard of the noble God Heironious.

A Paladin of Heironious sat astride his armored war horse at the head of the cavalry host, clad in full plate of gleaming silverite and mythril, shining brightly in the early morning sun. His bearing in the saddle, straight and true as the lance in his gauntlet-clad right hand swung down to attack position.

For the better part of a decade, her father's armor and weapons had sat gathering dust, having long ago lost their luster. His long-cased battle standard locked away, never to see the light of day again. Yet there he was, at the head of an armored host, his armor gleaming brightly with the full favor of his god just as it had in the stories her mother had told her when she was a little girl.

His paige loosed another blast from the war horn, sending the armored host charging at the assembled Kobold force, her father's lance flanked by Montgomery's at the apex of the formation.

Kate stood transfixed at the sight before her as the heavy cavalry slammed into the Kobold line, pulled back, reformed and hit them again. Her father once again the warrior of legend in the center of the battle, his blasting war horn and gleaming armor inspiring feats of valor from the knights assembled at his flanks.

For a brief moment it appeared that the Kobold line might hold as they lowered their pikes to meet the third charge of the Paladin, James Beckett's armored host when a squadron of Elven light cavalry burst from the forest on the far side of the battle line and unleashed a hail of flaming arrow fire that nearly blotted the rising sun to turn the unprotected kobold left flank.

With the Paladin-led New Amsterdam Heavy Cavalry hammering their right, Elven light cavalry harassing their left, the massed phalanx of the XIIth Legion marching inexorably up the center fire flying from the fingertips of Gina Griffon, the Kobold line wavered, collapsed and then completely disintegrated. Those who were not slaughtered, fled into the forest in full rout to the cheers of the victorious host.

Now only one more enemy remained.

The Black Death himself.

* * *

 _ ****Author's Note: A little something to let people know I hadn't forgotten this one. More to come, I promise.**_

 _ **Belated Happy New Year.**_


End file.
